


The Secrets We Keep

by ScarlettSiren



Series: Blood and Won [1]
Category: K-pop, VIXX
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Fluff and Smut, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, John Wick Inspired - Freeform, Language Kink, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Past Sex Work, Ravi is a bit of a sensitive crybaby, Sugar Daddy without the kink, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Top!Taekwoon, bottom!ravi, but in a cute way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-27
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-06 02:07:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 41,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12201738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarlettSiren/pseuds/ScarlettSiren
Summary: Leo is a hitman who gets injured on a job. Ravi is a quick-talking stranger living on the street. They were two people whose paths shouldn’t have crossed. Somehow, they ended up tangled in each other’s lives more than either of them could have expected.When Leo first meets Ravi, it’s on the heels of a job gone wrong and Ravi helps him in ways Leo is unsure he can ever repay.Months later, fate finds a way to give him his chance.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I love this pairing and was dying to write for them. The fic is a bit inspired by the John Wick universe but without the manpain. I promise I won’t kill off your faves, or any cute dogs.
> 
> Warnings: I don’t know how to really tag this, so I’m going to just pop a warning here. There are moments when one of the character’s former sex work comes up. This work is not framed in a negative light, but rather as a partially negative experience due to some vaguely mentioned abuse. It has also colored this character’s view of certain relationships, to the point that the character is unhealthily attached to the idea of using sex as a way to repay debts/kindness. This is addressed and overcome. Also, the homophobia in this fic is all only mentioned as part of exposition of past occurrences, but it does feature a mention of parents disowning their child for being gay. I just want to make sure no one is caught off-guard by these things in the fic.
> 
> Some helpful vocabulary:  
> Bratva: Russian Mob  
> Geondal: Korean Mob  
> Triads: Chinese Mob  
> Yakuza: Japanese Mob

Taekwoon had a job, just like any other.

Except, of course, it was not one’s typical 9-to-5.

Bullets whizzed past him overhead, and the glass from the windows of the car he was ducked behind shattered, raining down upon him as he discarded the empty magazine of his pistol and slid in another with practiced efficiency. 

Just another day at the office, par for the course.

It didn't seem to matter if one worked in a cubicle or the most exotic profession imaginable… no matter what, Mondays were unequivocally the worst. His jobs usually didn't end this dramatically. Generally he was able to slip away without being noticed… but of course, there generally wasn't a gaggle of armed guards waiting for him, as if they'd been warned ahead of time, so this job was shaping up to be a real doozy.

Taekwoon was quick on his feet, however, and he'd managed to take out one of the guards before they opened fire and he was forced to duck behind an abandoned car. He'd at least made it a few blocks away before being confronted, but he supposed his client wanted to avoid a shootout on his property. That was fair. What wasn't fair were these numbers… eight against one.

Honestly, if his client had wanted his men to stand a chance, he should have at least sent twelve.

As it stood, he had enough bullets in a single magazine for each of them, with a few to spare. Personally he didn't even find them worth the single bullet each, but, it was hard to break necks and slit throats when your enemies saw you coming.

He sighed, pulling back the slide of his pistol to chamber a round. Time to get to work.

The airstrip they'd landed on was on private Chae Enterprises property just outside the warehouse district. He'd need to take as many out as he could, then slip them in the city and disappear for a few days before he eventually made his way home. He didn't need them following him and figuring out where his house was. It was his refuge, one he kept entirely removed from his line of work.

For that reason, he hadn't worked so close to home in some time. He preferred the jobs that took him countries or even continents away… it gave him a sense that his home just outside of Seoul was a safe haven, as if shielded by an impenetrable bubble, nigh untouchable to the dregs of his profession. But the job had been (theoretically) straightforward and the pay reasonably high, so he'd taken it against his better judgement. 

Kill the brother of Boss Chae, arguably the most prolific Geondal figurehead in South Korea. He wasn't killing Boss Chae himself, so security should have been much less extensive. Boss Chae himself had, in fact, put out the contract, so he had expected little resistance. He'd been inserted into his target’s security crew on a flight back from the Alps. Upon landing on the Chae’s private airstrip, he'd taken out his target, the man’s guards and the pilot. The few men awaiting him at the airstrip, looking to tie up loose ends? That was textbook. The small army of guards he was now facing as he made his way through toward the warehouse district for a quick escape? Not so much.

It was clear Boss Chae wanted no witnesses to the fact that his brother’s death wasn't an accident. That was fair, but if there was one thing he expected of his clients, it was this: don't turn on your fucking hitman.

It happened very few times, of course. Hitmen were not simply disposable hired guns. He was of a different caliber. They were, above all, consummate professionals, living within a code of silence. Not only that, but killing off every assassin you ever hired would quickly get you blacklisted in the trade. That told him Boss Chae was desperate to secure his empire’s future, which was likely why he put out the hit in the first place. He knew the man to be quite honorable otherwise, and incredibly traditional. This seemed a bit out of character.

In any case, these weren't really things he should have been ruminating on while taking enemy fire. He waited for a break, then bolted for better cover, taking two quick shots just before ducking behind an empty shipping crate. They were unwasted: two of his attackers dropped to the ground dead, the rest shouting and scrambling to take cover or find a better vantage point.

Now was as good a chance as any.

Taekwoon bolted from behind his cover and charged for them, placing himself right between their ranks. They were clustered separately, having split when he had shot at them, and by placing himself in the center of them, they were less likely to shoot at him unless they had a shot guaranteed not to hit one of their own.

Taekwoon took down the closest man with a perfectly-aimed headshot before turning to intercept a right hook from the second nearest. He held the attacker’s arm and took him down with two shots to the chest, having to immediately drop him and turn to avoid another attack. He sidestepped once, twice, then retaliated with a lightning-quick knife-hand to the man’s throat. He dropped his gun, gagging as he staggered back, allowing Taekwoon to easily take the shot that would down him for good.

The hitman didn’t turn fast enough: another of the gunmen had closed in, raising his pistol to Taekwoon’s chest. He quickly moved his right arm down hard against the attacker’s wrist, sweeping the gun off its target. A shot rang out and he felt a distinct pain in his side, but another guard came for him too quickly for him to assess the damage. He kicked the shooter square in the chest to put some distance between them, then moved his arm up to block the crude strike from the other man. He brought his gun up and shot him twice in the chest. The slide pulled back after the second, indicating he’d run through the magazine. Cursing, he bolted for the nearest cover, tumbling over it haphazardly.

Taekwoon felt a sharp pain in his side and looked down. A bright-red stain of blood began to bloom across his white shirt. Shit. This really wasn’t his day.

He released the clip from his gun and loaded a new one… one of the only two he had. He’d packed light, unfortunately. Once he’d secured the magazine and pulled back the slide, he steeled himself, pushing past the pain to move away from the encroaching footsteps. He had barely ducked around another corner when more gunshots rang out. He heard the metal crate ring next to his head as the bullets ricocheted off of his cover. The shots paused for a moment and he peeked out long enough to fire off a few rounds, taking out another of the guards. When they resumed firing at him again, he took off down the long row of crates, taking a quick turn when he was able, trying to shake them.

The adrenaline was starting to kick in and he was able to push himself into a fast running pace as he focused on putting a good amount of distance between himself and the Chae forces. He took a hard left and realized he was coming up on a chain-link fence, however, but a quick glance around the area told him he really didn’t have much choice but to go over it. He holstered his gun and shed his jacket, still running full-force. He leapt at the fence, managing to grab onto the metal wiring about halfway up. His side ached in protest as he climbed, scaling as quickly as he could manage. He threw his jacket over the razor-wire on the top and rolled over it, a little too fast… his hands slipped as he was clearing the top and he fell the entire way to the ground, landing on his back with a thud.

Taekwoon groaned in pain, going for his gun. He checked his ammo, then slid the magazine back in and aimed down the empty center lane between the rows of crates, waiting for his pursuers. If he had the drop on them, he had the advantage. He stayed there on the ground, aiming between his knees as he caught his breath. Finally, he heard some distant shouting, and several figures appeared from behind the crates on the right. The hitman took several shots, hitting one of them (though he was not sure if it had been fatal) and causing the others to scramble for cover. He used their shock to clamber to his feet and run down the side of the warehouse he’d come upon, ducking behind it the moment he was able. He pulled his jacket back on to hide his wound from the prying eyes of the public, and set out to find the main road. He needed to disappear, and the best place to do that was somewhere populated.

His once fast pace had become a stumbling sort of jog as he wove through streets and alleyways. The closer he got to downtown, the more populated it was, and he holstered his gun to keep from alerting the passers-by. He was still in the slums, but there were people now milling about… mostly vagrants or laborers. He did his best to avoid the street gangs, since he was in no condition for a one-on-half-dozen tussle. Taekwoon’s vision was starting to get hazy. He stumbled, knocking over several trash bins as he struggled to find his footing. His shoulder hit the wall, but he struggled not to slide down to his knees, which were giving out on him.

“I told you pricks not to come back here any more—” The door he was leaning near swung open, a man holding a wooden bat appearing from within. His angered expression softened instantly to slack confusion. “Oh. You're not-”

Taekwoon shoved past him, ducking inside the doorway and lumbering down the unfamiliar hall.

“Hey, whoa, slow down there gorgeous.” Said the stranger, grabbing him by the shoulder and lowering his bat. He looked… concerned. Taekwoon leaned back against the wall to catch his breath and took stock of him.

His hair had once been bleached blond, though it had clearly been some time, since dark roots were showing by nearly an inch at his scalp. He was dressed with purpose, wearing a bright red jersey with the sleeves cut down halfway to the hem. His black jeans had more holes than denim left, and he had an assortment of jewelry that was entirely mismatched, some real and some noticeably fake. The watch wasn’t ticking… not even the earrings matched each other. His knees were skinned, visible through those holes in his pants, and while his arms were largely clear of scrapes, he had a few tattoos there, and his knuckles were mottled with scabs. His red high-tops were well-worn, the once-white laces nearly gray. By his youthful, though hardened visage, he surmised the man was likely his junior by several years, though not significantly younger. Taekwoon could tell immediately by looking at him that he knew the streets well, and spent a lot of time here.

“No time… need to move.” Taekwoon gritted out, struggling to keep moving. The stranger seemed as though he was about to protest, but apparently decided against it, instead helping him up when he swayed dangerously.

“Ok, you’re clearly in trouble… Upstanding, well-dressed guy like you, can’t imagine what kind of trouble you’re in, though. Unless you’re geondal.” The man raised an eyebrow at him expectantly.

“Not exactly.” Taekwoon gritted out, doubling over.

The stranger’s eyes finally trailed down to where his hand was glued to his side, seeing the fresh blood blooming across his white shirt under his sleek black jacket.

“Shit. That looks bad. You need a hospital-”

“No hospitals.” Taekwoon snapped.

“Okay, okay, um… all right, follow me.” The stranger pulled Taekwoon’s arm over his shoulders and helped him along, sure to hold his waist on his uninjured side. To his credit, the hitman was a paragon of discipline, not protesting despite the intense pain wracking his body with every step.

The young man led him down several hallways of the dilapidated building, the peeling, chipped walls passing by them in a blur. They made their way to a stairwell, and he shifted a rather cleverly-placed piece of metal debris to reveal a doorway which led them to a higher floor that was much more well-kept than the entry had been. Cots and old futons lined the walls, makeshift shelves and cubbies with hot pans and grills made it seem like it was lived in, though obviously by vagrants.

The stranger set him down on what looked like one of the nicer cots, propping him up against the wall. “Just… wait here, let me see what I can find for you.”

Before Taekwoon could even say anything, he disappeared. The hitman just shook his head, peeling off his jacket and unbuttoning his shirt at an agonizingly slow pace thanks to his fumbling, shaky fingers. He was eventually able to feel around the wound, and realized there were actually two; the bullet had exited his body. That was good… as long as it hadn’t hit anything vital. Judging by the amount of blood (a fair amount, but not a torrent) he had been lucky and it hadn’t. The wound was also fairly small, so he’d been hit by small caliber, likely not above 9mm, and it had probably been an armor-piercing round, since it didn’t collapse on impact or get lodged in his body. His prognosis was promising, so long as he could keep it from getting infected. A cursory glance around the room had him wondering if that was even possible to avoid.

The young man who’d rescued him returned a few minutes later, holding a bottle of what looked like vodka and a sheet that actually looked fairly clean. His gaze seemed to linger on Taekwoon’s bare chest, which was a canvas of old wounds; everything from bullets, knives, tasers, even a garrote (that job had been a wild ride, and the scar on his arm was a constant reminder of it). It took him several seconds to tear his eyes away.

“Sorry it’s not a real first aid kit. This is the cheap stuff, but the alcohol content is high.” The stranger told him, setting the bottle next to him as he sat nearby and began ripping the sheets into smaller strips he could actually use.

Taekwoon took the bottle, knocking back a fifth before gritting his teeth and pouring it against his wound with no preamble. He seethed, eyes screwed shut as he did it again, making sure to get the back this time. He knocked back another shot before handing the bottle to his host, who was watching with concern.

“So, a guy in a suit, who’s ’not exactly’ geondal, with a bullet in his side, who acts like such wounds are a minor inconvenience. You're a damn mystery for sure, gorgeous.” He shook his head in awe as he took a swig of the vodka for himself before going back to ripping the sheets.

“There's no bullet.” Taekwoon corrected, strain in his voice as he tied one of the makeshift bandages around his midsection to staunch the blood flow. “There's an exit wound… so the bullet’s already out of me.”

The stranger just stared at him for a long moment before finally huffing a laugh. “Man, you are really something else.”

Taekwoon just grunted.

“Say, what’s your name, anyway? Figure I should know, since we're drinking together and all. Or should I just keep calling you ‘gorgeous’?” The stranger asked, waggling his brows teasingly. “Everyone calls me Ravi.”

“They call me Leo.” Taekwoon murmured, not really feeling like indulging his real name to a stranger. And it wasn’t a lie.

“Ooh, like the proud lion. It suits you.” Ravi replied with a smirk. “Well, Leo… stay as long as you like and lick those wounds. You’re welcome here.”

“You take in a lot of strangers, Ravi?” The hitman asked, an almost sarcastic curl around the name that had the younger man licking his lips. That wasn’t the reaction he’d been going for, but he was too tired to think too much into it.

“Sure… but just the pretty ones.” He teased, winking. 

“Hmm, well, do me a favor and don't take in any more while I'm here. Never know who’s watching.” Taekwoon murmured, his eyes fluttering as he struggled to remain awake. His awareness was becoming rather selective. All he could pay attention to was this stranger’s deep voice, the way it rumbled in his chest when he talked. 

Ravi cocked his head at the strange request, but gave an indulgent laugh regardless. “Sure thing. Just you and me tonight. Why don't you get some rest?”

Taekwoon was out before he even finished his sentence.

***

Sunlight speared through broken windowpanes, and Taekwoon awoke to the unfamiliar smell of mold and plaster dust. He took a moment to get his bearings… he was woozy, he felt like death, and his side hurt like hell. It took him several long blinks to remember he was still in Seoul, in an abandoned building with a stranger. A stranger whose name was Ravi.

Taekwoon took stock of the room. Ravi was nowhere to be found, but there were some granola bars still in the wrappers left next to him on the cot. He inhaled one voraciously, knowing he was going to need sustenance in order to heal. The rest of the room was rather homey… for an abandoned building, in any case. There were knick-knacks everywhere, as well as torn paintings in cracked frames hung upon the crumbling walls. Chipped vases sat atop tables with too-few legs, holding weedy flowers clearly picked from the overgrown vines outside. It was a home made as personal as possible in its circumstances. There was something about it that spoke to the strength and resourcefulness of its inhabitant.

He hadn't been conscious for more than a few minutes when he heard footsteps approaching. He grabbed his gun from his waistband holster, cringing when his side protested the reach. He was alert, but dropped his guard when he saw Ravi come through the doorway, letting his gun clatter to the floor with a soft sigh.

“Hey, it's just me. Glad you're awake. Was afraid I might lose you overnight. You were a rock this morning.” Ravi said, approaching him and holding out a small plastic container. “Went to visit this sweet old lady down the street, Vietnamese immigrant, anyway she made you some pho. You should try to eat something.”

“You, too.” Taekwoon quipped, noting the stark lines of his ribs visible where his tank top sleeves revealed his bare sides.

“She already fed me.” Ravi replied, but the near-imperceptible twitch of his eyes told the hitman that was a lie. He found it strange that he would lie about that, and found himself curious as to why.

Taekwoon didn't dwell on it, instead downing every drop of the pho. It was indeed delicious, but it was hard to enjoy when every stray twitch of muscle sent fiery pain up his side. He had survived the night, which meant he wasn't bleeding out. The bullet had missed any arteries or organs, as he'd assumed, but he would still need stitches and some better bandaging eventually.

Ravi smiled far more brightly than he probably should have when Taekwoon finished his food. He set the container and chopsticks aside, probably planning to use them later. “You inhaled that, huh? Good thing, too. You’re gonna need to eat in order to heal.”

Taekwoon nodded. He was already feeling tired again, exhaustion cloying at him, trying to drag him back down into sleep. Ravi was still talking to him… but he couldn’t comprehend what he was saying. That deep, soothing voice of his eventually soothed him to sleep, though he wasn’t sure if that had been the younger man’s intention.

When Taekwoon awoke again, it was dark… the room was lit with a few candles and some cleverly-placed mirrors. His host was in the corner, tucked close to one of the flickering lights as he scribbled something in a notebook. He was also wearing a hideous multicolor jacket, likely due to the chill in the air. When the hitman groaned, he bolted upright, tossing the notebook aside and moving closer.

“Hey, you’re up! You doing okay?” Ravi asked, peering at him through the darkness. “It got colder so I got you a blanket. Wasn’t sure how long you were gonna be out.”

“S’fine...” Taekwoon slurred. His mouth felt like cotton. He reached for the vodka, still nearby, and took several swigs.

“You still in a lot of pain?” Ravi queried, voice low as his eyes tracked the points of light shimmering on the bottle.

“Mhm.” Taekwoon grunted, taking a breath, then another gulp of the vodka, before finally setting it down. It was terrible, but he was hoping it would take the edge off his pain. “Could be worse. Not the first bullet I’ve caught.”

“Yeah, I noticed.” Ravi murmured, scooting closer. There was only a foot or so between them now, but he could just barely make out the pained lines on the other’s face from this distance. “Wish I could… do more for you. Vodka and blankets are about all I have to offer.”

Taekwoon watched him in the candlelight, eyes narrowing. He didn’t understand why this complete stranger would be so eager to help him, especially when it was clear that Ravi didn’t have much to his own name to even offer. Even though he had nothing, and he didn’t know the hitman from Adam, he gave what he could. It was perplexing. But then… it wasn’t. Taekwoon took stock of the beds around the room. They were set up, but empty. No one else was here. But at another time, there had been.

“You can’t save everyone.” The hitman told him, a bitter sort of amusement in his tone. He almost seemed to be mocking him. “I’m sure you do your best. You likely try your hardest. You obviously have a big heart. But the cold, hard truth of it is that the world is cruel, and nothing you do will change that.”

Ravi just gave a shrug at that, grinning. “Well, I’ve always been stubborn.”

Taekwoon was going to quip back something about him actually being stupid, but he felt incredibly tired again. It wasn’t long before sleep claimed him once more.

The next time Taekwoon awoke, it was light out. He estimated late morning, based on how the sun was coming in through the windows, and the temperature. Ravi was, again, nowhere to be found. Taekwoon helped himself to the rest of the vodka, even though he shouldn’t have. He needed to get out of here, and soon. The longer he lingered, the higher chance he had of contracting an infection. He was sure the remaining Chae guards had long given up on tracking him down, so he could likely make an escape to his home, or at least to the organization, undetected… but whether he had the strength to stand, that was another question.

When Ravi returned some time later, he didn't come empty-handed. He was holding a small takeout container and a little orange bottle. Taekwoon also observed that one of his gold chains was missing (the real one) and his watch was gone. 

“Good afternoon. You live another day, I see. It’s not much, but I managed to snag you some of the good stuff.” He shook the pill bottle in his right hand, causing it to rattle. “Should help your pain enough to get you walking again. And I got you some kimchi rice to take it with.”

“From another little old lady?” Taekwoon asked with a sardonic smirk.

Ravi snorted. “Nah, street vendor. He's an okay guy. His kids are great, though. All five of them.”

He handed the bottle and Tupperware both over. Taekwoon took the pills dry, then shoveled down the rice. It was flavorful in a way only fresh-from-the-street food was. It didn’t hurt as much to eat as it had the day before. He wondered if he was just getting used to the pain, or if maybe he’d had more vodka than he thought.

“So how's a kid like-no, you know what, I don't care.” Taekwoon cut himself off before he could even ask. That was clearly the alcohol talking anyway. He wasn't social.

“I'm not a kid, I'm twenty-three.” Ravi corrected.

“Younger than me.” Taekwoon muttered. “So a kid.”

“Ah, so should I call you ‘hyung’?” Ravi queried, sneering.

Taekwoon grimaced. “Honorifics… are entirely pointless to me.” Truthfully they didn't ever use them in the organization, because there were so many younger members who were far more skilled than elder ones and it encouraged people to respect people in the trade no matter their age.

Ravi snorted. “Fine, geez. Just ‘Leo’, then.”

“Really, what does respect matter, when I'm bloodied on the floor? I never understood those stupid social mores.” Taekwoon muttered. His side was aching more and more. He needed to get out of this place, soon.

“Yeah, well, Koreans and their traditions and all that.” Ravi sing-songed, though there was a bitterness in his tone that settled heavily in the room. Taekwoon noticed it immediately.

“Says the man with the overly-righteous moral compass. Empathy is just the basest form of respect, when it comes down to it.” The hitman retorted. “But like I told you, it doesn't matter how hard you try. Compassion and respect… they won't get you anywhere. You can't save everyone.”

“It doesn’t matter if I can’t save everyone. I know that. I can’t even save myself. But… it’s about responsibility. If no one will help a stranger, then where is our humanity?” Ravi argued, an edge of anger in his voice as he became impassioned by the thought.

Taekwoon snorted. “I sold my humanity a long time ago, kid. Just like everyone else, I guess. Greed, power, security… everyone sells out for something.”

“Being true to yourself and your own nature is more important than any of those things.” Ravi bit back. “Compassion is more important.”

Taekwoon rolled his eyes. “To you. That much is clear.” He sighed. “This conversation is exhausting.”

“Good, then get some more sleep. You still look like hell.” Ravi replied good-naturedly.

Taekwoon threw him a nasty look, but his head hadn't even hit the cot before he passed out. 

When he awoke again, it was unpleasant to say the least. He must have shifted during his sleep in a way his side decided to protest, because he woke to a horrendous pain knifing through his torso. He actually let out a loud groan of pain as he sat up, wide awake and clutching his wound.

“Wha-? What is it?” Another voice called out sleepily. Ravi, his pain-addled brain supplied. The younger man crawled over to him to look him over. It was pitch black save for the distant glow of streetlights coming in from the broken windows. Ravi hadn't been burning any candles. He had also been dead asleep, judging by how out of sorts he looked.

Taekwoon gritted his teeth. The pain was ebbing, now, but it was still barely tolerable. “It was nothing. Go back to sleep.”

“You should take another of these.” Ravi said, picking up the pill bottle and pushing it into his hands. “You look like you’re dying. Are you sure I can’t bring you somewhere?”

“No. I’ll… be fine.” Taekwoon wheezed, voice thready. He took another two of the pills, however, and he was passed out again within fifteen minutes.

Ravi would remain there, near him, all but unblinking for the remainder of the night.

Taekwoon didn’t wake again until early evening of the next day. He felt groggy, but a fuzzy sort of fog from the meds kept him from feeling too much pain. He’d likely taken too much the night before. Ravi was sitting nearby, but he’d dozed off leaned against the wall, worry etched along the line of his brow. There was a tupperware sat next to him. He couldn’t help but let out a small huff of amusement before picking it up and eating every bite.

It was time for him to leave. He’d been here too long already… there was still too great a risk of his wound becoming infected, and he needed to treat it properly or it wouldn’t heal as it should. He stood, groaning a little at the strain it put on his side.

Ravi bolted awake, rubbing his eyes and taking a moment to come to his senses. “Leo! You’re up! You were pretty bad last night, and… what are you doing?”

“I’m leaving.” The hitman explained. He managed to stand up straight without using the wall for support. 

Ravi stared at him for a moment with his mouth open. “Oh. Are you… are you sure you’re all right?”

“I won’t be if I stay much longer.” Taekwoon told him. “Show me the way out of here?”

“Oh… right.” Ravi nodded, standing and showing him the way. He had to move that metal barricade for the other man since he certainly wasn’t up for doing anything so strenuous yet.

They stood in the crumbling hallway where they first met, the dank, forgotten alley just beyond the door. Taekwoon fished around in his back pocket and pulled out his wallet, taking out the several large bills he kept there, around fifty-thousand won.

“I want you to have this. You helped me when you really didn’t have to. If I had more to give, I would.” He told him, holding it out to the other man.

“I… I can’t accept this. I was just, helping out a stranger in need, you know? It’s not a big deal.” Ravi stammered.

“Take it.” Taekwoon said, forcing the money into his hands. He paused to regard him for a moment, wondering all the things he couldn't possibly decipher about the young man with his observational skills alone. “Thank you, Ravi. I won’t forget this.”

“Anytime, gorgeous Leo.” Ravi replied with an affectionate grin, patting his shoulder as he turned away.

Taekwoon could only offer a small nod in return before he disappeared down the alley, as the younger man watched him go, knowing he would likely never see him again.

***

“Well you really lucked the hell out, Leo.”

The hitman was lying on a gurney in a well-lit, immaculately clean infirmary. The man before him, who was prodding at the stitches he'd just finished with, finally motioned for him to sit up.

“You've said that four times already, thank you, Ken.” Taekwoon muttered. He twisted his body a little as he sat up to test the limits of the stitches. They hurt like hell when he moved too far, so he gave up on pushing himself.

“It's true. By some miracle it's not infected, and the bullet missed any major arteries as well as your liver, by literal inches. Play the lotto this week.” Ken told him.

Taekwoon snorted as he pulled on his dress shirt, still bloody. “Yeah, because that'll happen.”

“Well, at least don't take any more work for a while. Give it a few weeks to heal, minimum.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Taekwoon muttered, paying the man before taking his leave. When he pocketed his wallet again, he realized that the money he’d given to Ravi had been slipped back into his pocket. That sly, idiotic kid… he shook his head, scoffing to himself. “See you around.”

“Hopefully not. I only see you when you’re injured or dying.” Ken replied with a laugh, but the hitman was already halfway out the door.

***

To his credit, Taekwoon gave himself two whole weeks to heal.

On day fifteen, however, he was going stir-crazy and took the first job that didn't look horrendously difficult and wasn't halfway across the world.

Three days later he was on a flight back from China, the news talking nonstop about the sudden death of a controversial politician. The martini he was sipping on in his first class seat tasted all the sweeter after a job well-executed.

He went back to work more steadily after that, but kept to Asia, since he wasn't feeling up to any long flights just yet. The cheating husband of a wealthy heiress in Singapore, two disgraced dignitaries in Malaysia, a rather wily Pakhan in Russia… none gave him as much trouble as the Chae job, so he counted it as a win.

In a few more weeks, he was taking jobs a bit further west, as far as Germany and even Estonia (such a small country but apparently his reputation preceded him and the client had to have him). He couldn't complain. The money was good. But the weather was starting to get chillier, so he decided to take a small break when he felt a cold coming on. He spent a week in bed, miserable, until he was finally well enough to be able to drag himself out to go grocery shopping to restock his dwindling food supply.

Taekwoon always felt strange, going shopping at the market. Most of the people he interacted with were either killers or direct contributors to his line of work. But at the market, he found himself surrounded by parents and children, legitimate businessmen, bankers and florists and chefs. Normal people. Walking among them, he sometimes felt like death wearing a person suit. He was among them, but not one of them. He did not belong.

He finished his shopping as fast as he could before beginning the trek back to his car as quickly as possible. It was just beginning to snow… the soft flurries floating down gently onto the street. The wind, at least, wasn’t bad, but the temperature was bitter. Taekwoon hated the cold. He felt as though he could never get warm enough, and layers only hurt his mobility. Running on ice was also a hazard. In short, winter was bad for business.

Taekwoon was eager to get home and out of this cold… maybe hibernate for several weeks until the weather improved… but he knew he never stayed away from the job for that long. He wasn’t one to say no to paying work when it came his way. He had just turned onto the block where he’d parked his car when he spotted someone familiar curled up on the street corner… he knew that shock of faded blond hair anywhere. It was Ravi.

He was still wearing jeans with far too many holes in them, those same red high-tops which were now even more worn down and faded. He looked thinner in the face… dangerously so. It had been months since he'd seen him last. He had a light sweater on, as well as a tattered coat, but he was clearly shivering, pressed so hard against the wall it seemed as though he was trying to vibrate through it.

“Ravi?” Taekwoon asked, shock bleeding into his voice despite his best effort.

The younger man looked up, somehow managing to break into a blinding smile despite his clear misery. “Leo! Wow, didn’t th-think I’d ever s-see you again.”

He was shaking so hard his teeth were chattering. Taekwoon knelt in front of him, resting his groceries on the ground. “What are you doing out here?”

“Oh, well, y’know, c-can’t have t-too much of a good thing, I guess… th-that condemned building I was st-taying in got demolished. For s-some apartments, I th-think.” Ravi let out a shaky chuckle. “H-hasn’t been too bad, but… t-temps dropped recently and… well, it’s damn c-cold.”

“You have nowhere to go?” Taekwoon asked softly.

The laugh Ravi gave then was humorless. “Nah… th-that was my home base for y-years. Wouldn’t know where else t-to go.”

Taekwoon looked him over; the warmth of his familiar smile in such a stark contrast to the near-bluish shade of his lips… he remembered the way this man had helped him when he was certain no sane person ever would, and he made a decision he would have never made otherwise.

“Come home with me.”

Ravi stared at him for a long moment before scoffing. “Come on, you d-don’t-”

“I owe you one.” Taekwoon reminded him, extending a hand. “A favor for a favor.”

Ravi watched him for several seconds before taking his hand, his face breaking out into another wide grin.

***

The drive had been long due to Taekwoon taking every precaution in the snow and ice, though thankfully it was not so blanketed as to cause strain on his tires just yet. Ravi marveled at the sleek elegance of the car and practically melted into the heated seat. The heat was on full blast for him, and he held his hands in front of the vents for a long while, until his arms felt heavy and he settled for having them in his lap. They didn’t talk… Taekwoon didn’t know what to say, and Ravi’s jaw was probably aching from the cold. He just left his music playing on low (one of his favorite concertos) and focused on the road.

Ravi was half asleep by the time they pulled into his garage, and Taekwoon nudged him awake. He blearily managed to get out of the car and stumble his way into the house, carrying only a small duffel which he'd brought along; it contained everything he owned. He blinked slowly, looking around in awe. The house was incredibly modern, but there were several paintings and furniture pieces that almost looked like antiques, including a stunning grand piano made of a dark wood, carved with beautiful scrolling details along the front legs. It was truly a work of art, a stark contrast to the white vaulted ceilings, pale marble floors and open windowed walls off the back of the house. There was a faux fireplace flaring with fake flames behind glass which had a heat mechanism keeping the house toasty warm. Everything was immaculately clean, not a mote of dust to be found.

“Wow… you, uh… you sure you’re not geondal, with all this money?” Ravi murmured, dumbfounded.

Taekwoon just rolled his eyes, guiding him down the hall. He pointed out the bathroom and brought him towels so he could take a shower, also making sure to let him borrow some clothes to sleep in. He left Ravi to his own devices while he changed and made some dinner. He was glad to get out of all those layers… his house was warm enough that sleep pants and a long-sleeved shirt were enough to keep him from freezing. He made some kimchi ramyun with small slices of pork… something to warm Ravi up while also being somewhat filling. He was just setting out the bowls when the younger man emerged, looking warmer as he toweled off his hair and padded over in Taekwoon’s too-large chunky gray sweater and plaid sleep pants.

“Your shower is amazing, sorry I took so long, I figured the hot water was going to start giving out after a while but it never did and I was an ice cube.” Ravi said as he sat down at the kitchen bar. There was more color in his face, now, but he still looked gaunt. “And you cooked? I’m pretty sure you’ve more than returned my favor.”

Taekwoon offered the barest of smiles, a rare sight. “I’m sure the warm water helped. Food and shelter is all I can really offer, in any case. What you did for me is worth quite a bit more than that.”

Ravi snorted around a bite of food, swallowing it before speaking. “I didn’t do all that much.”

Taekwoon set out two steaming cups of tea before finally joining him. “On the contrary. You sheltered me without knowing anything about me, got me to a safe place at great risk to your own personal safety, you fed me, procured medicine for me so that I could get a handle on my pain enough to seek a safer haven and above all, you didn’t ask any questions or go seeking answers even though the curiosity was clearly eating away at you.”

Ravi stopped shoveling noodles into his mouth long enough to contemplate all that. “I guess. On the street you just… well. It doesn’t really matter where anyone’s come from, or what they’ve done. You help people out.”

Taekwoon regarded him for a long moment as the younger man continued eating, his own chopsticks resting near his chin. “And what about you? Where did you come from? Why don’t you have anywhere else to go? Not even family?”

Ravi swallowed, staring down at the bowl which was mostly broth by now. “I, uh. I’m not really welcome with my family. They’d rather I be dead as far as they’re concerned.”

He cleared his throat. It was obviously difficult to talk about. “They, uh. They caught me making out with my longtime boyfriend just after I finished school. And I guess… they’d rather have no son than a gay son. So… they kicked me out. He wasn’t out either, so, couldn’t stay with him. Didn’t have a job, no real prospects… I decided, why not just join up with the military and complete my service, until I could get everything figured out? Except they don’t allow gay people either, and I was dishonorably discharged following a personality test that designated me as having a ‘disorder’.”

“So you… ended up on the street?” Taekwoon asked softly.

Ravi nodded. “Yeah. Did what I had to, just to survive. Eventually built up a reputation and with it, a small following. But we lost our base of operations, and… a lot of guys had cleaned up their act anyway. I’m glad for them. I just… didn’t have the chance. Some of them still had homes to go back to, if their pride let them. But I didn’t.”

Taekwoon frowned. “I’m sorry. No one should treat their son that way.”

“It doesn’t seem to bother you. Are you, uh…?” Ravi almost seemed to have hope in his eyes.

“To be perfectly honest, I don’t think I even have the capacity to care that deeply for another person.” Taekwoon answered candidly. “But if I did, I don’t believe I would care what their gender was.”

Ravi huffed, shaking his head. “Geez. Well… for what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re incapable of love. I mean, you were nice to me. So there’s a caring nature in you somewhere. Debts owed or not.”

Taekwoon didn’t want to think about the possibility that he may be right, and just what that may mean.

After they finished their meals, Ravi announced he was dead tired and headed right to bed. Taekwoon stayed up for a little while longer before finally going to bed himself. It took him a while to fall asleep… because even though the younger man was rooms away, several walls between them… there was a heaviness in the air that he could not shake. His house was not hollow and empty, as it always felt. For once in his life, it felt not like merely a place to lay his head, but like a home.


	2. Chapter 2

Ravi stayed with him for several days, each morning asking when the other man wanted him gone. Taekwoon always insisted he should stay, for the weather hadn’t really improved, and after all, he had nowhere else to go. So he stayed. He proved he had a knack for cooking, digging out some meats from Taekwoon’s freezer and managing to make some fantastic meals for them to share. They always did the dishes together, chatting idly. Despite that Ravi’s life was one he regretted the circumstances of and Taekwoon couldn’t divulge most of his, they found plenty to talk about. While Taekwoon’s family hadn't disowned him, they had died long ago, and so he understood how disconnected it could make one feel. They also discovered they both had a love of music… Ravi insisted he couldn’t play any instruments but he would come up with melodies and hooks to go along with lyrics and poems he’d written when he was younger. And the hitman’s piano wasn’t just for show… he was quite good, and it was one of the few things he was passionate about.

One evening, Taekwoon had been convinced enough to play for Ravi. The younger man watched him raptly from the couch, his head spinning with ideas. He hadn’t been so invested in artistic endeavors in years. He was up all night writing everything that came to mind. The next morning, Taekwoon found him asleep on the couch holding a notebook that looked ancient… it was tattered, water-damaged, and so full that he was writing in the margins. He shook his head and put some coffee on to brew before disappearing down the hall.

Ravi awoke to the smell of the coffee and the sound of the brewer bubbling, signaling it was done. He was stretching when Taekwoon emerged from down the hall holding a laptop. It was sleek and silver, but otherwise fairly standard. He handed it to him.

“Here. Why don’t you write all your stuff on this? You can probably use a recording program to play around with some ideas as well. There are headphones and chargers in the ottoman.”

Ravi just blinked at him. “But… don’t you… need that?”

Taekwoon huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “This is an extra. I have several I never use. Take it.”

The younger man stared at him for a long moment before finally taking it, with some hesitation. “Thank you. I have to wonder what kind of guy just has a ton of extra laptops lying around, to the point that they lend them out to guests.”

“I’m not lending it, it’s a gift.” Taekwoon corrected, going over to pour the coffee. “And I don’t talk about work, remember?”

Ravi grimaced, not sure if he could actually find it in himself to accept such a gift. He’d mark it as ‘borrowing’ for now. “Well, what do you tell people? If you even talk to anyone, I mean. You don’t seem very social.”

“I’m not.” Taekwoon affirmed. “As far as everyone should be concerned, I’m a consultant.”

“Consultant for what?” Ravi snorted, booting up the laptop and fishing around in the ottoman for the headphones and charger.

“Business consultant. I help people make their businesses more… efficient. Lucrative.” Taekwoon told him, setting their drinks on the coffee table before having a seat next to him. He’d already memorized exactly how Ravi liked his coffee (far too little cream and sugar for his own tastes). Ravi practically inhaled it, careful not to spill any on the laptop.

“That’s pretty vague.” The younger man said with an amused grin. “Bet it works, though.”

“Usually.” Taekwoon replied absently, slowly nursing the hot brew. “While you’re on the computer, why don’t you order yourself some new clothes. It’s too snowy to go into the city for my taste but I’m sure you’re tired of wearing my things. My cards are saved on an e-Pay account, just order what you’d like.”

Ravi regarded him while he plugged in the laptop, something like suspicion in his expression. “I… guess. That's a little… uh.”

Taekwoon looked at him expectantly. “You have… concerns?”

Ravi seemed to agonize with himself for a moment, making a little distressed noise before finally managing to form a real sentence.

“I don’t know, it’s… like having a sugar daddy who doesn’t want me to suck his dick.”

“Who said I didn’t?”

Ravi’s eyebrows went to his hairline, and he choked on his coffee.

“A joke, Ravi. I was kidding.” Taekwoon clarified, though he was as straight-faced as ever for several long seconds before his lips finally quirked up in a small smile. “Sorry, I’ve never been the best at humor.”

“No, it...” Ravi laughed, shaking his head. “You got me, that’s for sure.”

“You shouldn't think of it that way, in any case.” Taekwoon told him, standing and retrieving the younger man’s empty mug. His expression was ernest as he cupped Ravi’s jaw with his free hand. “I would never ask or expect anything of the sort from you. Just remember, this is a repayment of _my_ debt. You don't owe me anything.”

With that, he headed into the kitchen as if the conversation had never occurred. Ravi’s head was buzzing… his chin tingling where those long fingers had caressed him. He found himself thinking about just _how willing_ he would be to fall to his knees in front of this man, if he _had_ given the word. Or even if he hadn't. He would have offered himself up fully, had he believed for one second that this beautiful, mysterious man would take him up on it.

As it stood, he was sure he would not. Ravi refused to let it show just how much he wished that weren't the case, however. His stomach was in knots for the rest of the morning, and it was hardly noon when he excused himself to take a shower. He jerked off under the hot water hissing Leo’s name as he came.

***

The rest of the week was far more pleasant, at least as far as the weather. It was beginning to warm up, the snow finally melting, though there was still a biting chill in the air that had them avoiding the outdoors. Ravi wondered if every day closer to warmer weather was a day closer to his host finally suggesting he should leave. Of course, he hadn't implied anything of the sort, going so far as to show him where the laundry room was when his new clothes came in and giving him some hangers so he could fill the guest room closet with his own things.

Some days they would compose together, which was Ravi’s absolute favorite new pastime. He could watch Leo play piano for hours. Sometimes he got so distracted just watching him and listening that he wasn't truly paying attention to the cues as he meant to, and had literally nothing constructive to say when the man looked up at him expectantly. Ravi once tried to stutter through a made-up criticism but that only ended with the pianist laughing fondly at him and agreeing to start from the top.

One thing Ravi noticed was that Leo got a lot of phone notifications. They didn't seem like normal texts… but his phone would give a very non-descript beeping noise, he would glance at the screen, then swipe away the notification box with disinterest. Once he did stare contemplatively for several seconds at a particular message, but he eventually dismissed it just like all the others. He wondered if they were “consultation” gigs. He wondered just _what exactly_ that meant.

He also learned that his host didn't like television all that much. He would watch the news to catch up on current events, and seemed to enjoy the History channel, but most of the time he curled up on the couch with a glass of red wine and a book, his record player softly filling the room with his favorite concertos and piano pieces as he read. Ravi would read with him, sometimes, borrowing one of the thousands of books from his collection (he actually had an office that was lined entirely in bookshelves, which was glorious). Half of the volumes weren't even in Korean, though, which brought up the topic of just how many languages the man knew.

“Ten, fluently.” Leo had told him. “Korean, Chinese, Japanese, Russian, Italian, Greek, French, English, German, Spanish and I can fake my way through reading Latin and some Gaelic, though I see no point in really learning dead languages.”

Ravi just swallowed and stamped down the desire in his gut to hear every one of those come from his lips. He loved to listen to Leo talk. He had the most soothing voice, almost feminine, and he spoke so quietly, yet everything he said was clear and concise. He wasn’t one to mince words. It was ironic to him that someone who seemed to talk so little knew how to speak in so many languages.

Ravi usually spent the evenings on his laptop, typing away. Generally lyrics or poetry, and a lot of it was transcribing years of work from his old notebook. He also tended to listen to a lot of music through various internet apps… he hadn't had steady access to music streaming in years, and while he had nothing against his host’s choice of classical symphonies, he loved hip hop at heart and liked to find new jams, especially from independent artists. Many evenings found them both comfortably spread out on the couch, legs entwined or draped casually within each other’s space, enjoying the other’s silent company. Despite that they hadn't left the house in over a week, he didn't feel trapped or isolated.

On the second week of Ravi’s stay, they went grocery shopping in Seoul together, since the weather was so improved and they were running low on food. He was a bundle of nerves the entire time, convinced that the other man was, at the end of it all, going to leave him on a street corner with a care package from the market and wish him good luck. But Leo spent the whole time asking him what his favorite foods were, nudging him to pick out his preferred snacks and drinks and just paid for it all without flinching, only expecting him to help carry it all back to the car when they were done. Ravi had a hard time holding back tears, and he felt ridiculous and foolish and crazy, but when the last bag was loaded into the trunk, he found himself crouching down, sobbing and sniffling like a child, all while Leo rubbed his back and soothed him with promises that everything was okay. His voice held no inflection, as if it were not meant to be a comfort; it was as though he was merely stating a fact. For some reason, it was still incredibly reassuring.

Ravi didn't know how to explain that this was the first time he ever felt truly accepted, that someone actually cared about his well-being, and what a relief it was to go to sleep at night and not worry whether or not he would eat, or have a bed for the next night, too. He didn't know what this was. He didn't know that they were. He didn't know why this man felt compelled to continue repaying a debt Ravi himself felt was more than made up for by now… but he wouldn't argue, because he knew that it was the best thing to ever happen to him.

In fairness, Taekwoon didn't know what this was between them, either. What they had… it was a sense of comfort and warmth he'd never felt from another human. He didn't know how to define or quantify it… he just knew he didn't want the feeling to fade. He knew it was selfish, but Ravi made him feel like there was some sliver of humanity left in him. He clung desperately to that feeling, fearing it would fade again and he would be the husk of a man he'd always felt he was once more. Ravi was his light. He was the spark he hadn't known was missing. He wanted to protect him, and never let that feeling go.

On the third week after Ravi had come to live with him, Taekwoon took him to an art gallery downtown. He had remembered all the paintings that the younger man had tacked up on those crumbling plaster walls, just to make the abandoned building feel more like a home. He wanted his house to feel like home, too. He asked him his thoughts on each piece, and at the end of the day, he purchased the two that Ravi had lingered in front of the longest and had spoken the most highly about.

The next day, Ravi walked in on Taekwoon, sleeves rolled up and hammer in hand as he hung them on the guest room walls. Ravi dropped the basket of clean clothes he was carrying (his laptop perched precariously upon his folded shirts, as he'd been listening to music while doing laundry). Taekwoon darted across the room, dropping the hammer on the bed and snatching the basket before it hit the floor in a motion so quick and reflexive that Ravi had barely seen him move. He chuckled as he set the basket on the bed, murmuring a soft, “Surprise?”

Ravi became an emotional wreck again, but the older man just held him with no judgement, petting his hair and offering whispered encouragements. After a long moment like that, Ravi fell to his knees in front of him, unsure how else to express his feelings of gratitude… but just as his hands went to his belt, the other man knelt, too, continuing to hold him while he sobbed. 

Eventually Ravi calmed down, and the older man acted as though nothing had happened, merely saying he would get started on dinner before heading out to the kitchen. Ravi just… didn’t understand it. Most times, Leo seemed so removed from emotional responses. He was fairly stoic… and yet, he was Ravi’s stability in all ways. It didn't make any sense.

They ate dinner, with Leo conversing with him as though nothing was amiss. He suggested they could go out more often with the weather improving. He asked Ravi if he had any places in the city he wanted to visit. The younger man just gave non-committal responses and stared at his food, lost in thought.

After dinner, Leo disappeared. Ravi assumed to take a shower, since he'd gone down the hall to his bedroom. He paced the living room, mind still racing. He thought about what Leo had said to him the day they met… that he wasn't sure if he even had the capacity to care deeply about someone. He didn’t know if it was due to the losses he suffered so young, or if his job (whatever it was had to be awful, if he kept it so secretive) had made him callous and unfeeling, but he could only assume that Leo thought he was incapable of love, and was probably just as confused about their dynamic as he was. Whereas Ravi believed he knew what should have been expected of him, given all his past experiences, perhaps Leo had absolutely no idea what to expect from a relationship like theirs.

Ravi thrilled in the idea that maybe, just maybe, Leo _did_ feel for him in the same way, but was simply unsure how to express it. He resolved to simply ask him. After all, Leo had been so utterly understanding when Ravi became overly-emotional. Surely, even if he wasn’t on the same page with him, it wouldn’t hurt to bring it up.

Ravi was still pacing when his host emerged from down the hall. He took a breath, ready to unload everything he'd been ruminating over. But the other man spoke first.

“Oh, good, Ravi, you're still up… I wanted to tell you, I've taken a job.” Taekwoon announced, thumbing at his phone’s screen. “So I'll be leaving soon… I’ll only be gone a few days.”

“Oh.” Ravi murmured, feeling all the fire leave him as he slumped down onto the couch.

“I’m sure you can amuse yourself while I’m gone.” Taekwoon seemed to pet his hair as he passed, but lifted the strands some, rolling them between his fingers. “I have some hair dye in my bathroom dresser, if you want to touch this up.”

Ravi blinked up at him, noting not for the first time his jet-black hair. “What the heck do you need hair dye for?”

“I’ve worn my hair several colors, including blond, surprisingly enough.” Taekwoon quipped back. “It didn’t work for me.”

“Truly a man of mystery.” Ravi murmured. “Well… all right, I guess. I mean. How do you know I won’t just… wreck your house, or take off with all your stuff?”

Taekwoon chuckled in amusement. “Well, not only do I think we both know that’s not remotely within your personality, but, I’m sure you’ve realized by now that I would have absolutely no trouble tracking you down if you did.”

Ravi stared for a moment before shrugging with acceptance. “Fair point. I… guess I’ll see you in a few days, then?”

Taekwoon nodded. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

After their conversation, he spent the rest of the evening packing, as well as grabbing one of his spare smartphones for Ravi to use and charging it before giving it to the other man, the only contact his own cell phone number and an emergency contact he advised him only to call if he didn’t return or call him with updates on any delays. He assured that would be highly unlikely.

Ravi slept fitfully. He seemed uneasy about the whole thing, waving as he saw him off at the garage door the next morning. Neither of them would admit it felt a little bit domestic… neither would admit that it hurt to see the other go. Ravi wouldn’t admit that, as strange as the situation seemed, it felt right. And Taekwoon wouldn’t admit that he was looking forward to coming home to more than an empty house.

***

Ravi kept himself occupied as best he could. He took his host up on his offer, rooting through the hair dye to refresh his color… that had been an interesting venture. Leo’s closets were filled with dyes of all sorts, glasses of many frame shapes, even makeup. He also had a ridiculously large bathroom and an amazing shower, even better than the guest room’s. Ravi admittedly partook in using it while he was away, enjoying the ludicrous number of jets from all angles as he washed the bleach from his hair.

The rest of the time he spent composing… or, at least, coming up with some lyrics and rough melodies that he was hoping Leo could improve upon once he got home. He thought about trying to convince Leo to let him record some of his playing so he could better work on things when he was away like this. He found himself hoping it wouldn’t be too often, however. By the third day, Ravi was remarkably bored and slightly worried. He knew there likely wasn't cause for alarm yet, but he couldn't help the nervous churning in his stomach. It was getting late, and he'd retreated to the comfort of his host’s own bedroom, doing his best not to disturb the immaculate bed sheets as he laid atop them, reveling in the overwhelming scent of Leo. He felt utterly ridiculous for just how much he missed him.

Ravi nearly jumped out of his skin when his phone rang. Only one person, that he knew of, had the number. He leapt for the nightstand, grabbing for the device. There was an incoming FaceTime request from saved contact “Leo”. He slammed the “Accept” button like it was a lifeline.

“Ravi.” The picture took a few seconds to clear, but suddenly there he was; his beautiful, mysterious Leo, smiling at him through the screen. He was clearly in a hotel room based on the generic furniture around him, and it was still light outside from the window behind him. “Sorry it's so late there. I wanted to catch you before you went to bed.”

“You did, no worries, I just… wasn't expecting a call.” Ravi was beaming. He couldn't help it. The nervous knots in his gut settled into a contented warmth.

“I wanted to let you know my flight was delayed so you wouldn't worry. The snow here in London is terrible.” The other man said through the screen.

“London? Wow, halfway across the world.” Ravi’s heart lurched knowing there was an entire continent between them. “You got me a souvenir, right?”

His tone had been teasing, but the other man’s response was serious. “Of course I did. I just hope you like it.”

“Wait, I was kidding! You didn't need to get me anything.” Ravi backpedaled. “Just come back alive and not bleeding and I'll call that a gift.”

“Well I swung for both this time.” The screen warbled a little, distorting the image of the dark-haired man before the connection improved again. “I should be home late tomorrow night, your time. I'll jump on an earlier flight if I can but they said with the storm things aren't looking promising.”

Ravi frowned. “All right. Well, I appreciate you at least letting me know so I wasn't panicking.”

“I was hoping to avoid that, yes.” A soft chuckle. God, his smile was beautiful. Ravi prayed his own expression wasn't as dopey as he felt it was. “I see you dyed your hair. It’s more white now.”

“Yeah, you had the fancy neutralizing shampoo with the purple deposits, so I was able to get most of the yellow out.” Ravi said, pulling at the strands and fluffing it a bit in front of his face. “The phone camera makes it look really white though.”

“It looks good.” The other man assured. “We could get it cut, too, if you wanted. But I think the length suits you.”

Ravi felt his stomach do flips. Distance really did make the heart grow fonder. “Maybe just the ends. I'm thinking of letting it grow out a little.”

They talked for at least an hour about nothing and everything, Ravi ruminating over all the lyrics he'd been writing while Leo expressed his distaste for pigeons, which were somehow out in droves despite the frigid weather. Ravi laughed until his sides hurt, and eventually found himself drifting off to the soothing sound of Leo’s voice as the late night bled into early morning.

Ravi awoke to sunlight spearing into the room in a way that his guest room did not experience, as his room had a much smaller window. He groaned and sat up, realizing he'd fallen asleep in Leo’s bed while FaceTiming with him. He picked up his phone, which was dangerously low on battery, and found a text waiting.

_Think you fell asleep on me. Rest well. Enjoy the bed. See you tomorrow. -L_

He felt his face heating up when he realized he'd been caught sleeping in the other man’s bed. He was sure the wallpaper or the distinctive duvet had given him away. Well, at least his host didn't seem mad about it. The possibilities of just what that implied swam through his head all day.

Ravi did his best to keep distracted. He'd already done laundry, so that mostly left him doing more composing. Unfortunately, he was too excited knowing that his host would be home in just hours, and it was hard to make the time pass at anything faster than a crawl. He considered cooking for them both, but he wasn't sure exactly when Leo would be home and if he'd even be hungry after such a long flight. He'd probably just want to sleep.

But the more he thought about it, the more he decided he should probably have food ready just in case. He threw a chicken dish together in the crock pot and messed around on the piano a little, since he couldn't embarrass himself in front of Leo if the man wasn't there to see or hear it. He couldn't fathom how the other man played so beautifully and yet made it look so effortless. Ravi only used the keys to find pitches and he felt entirely out of his depth. He wanted to replicate what Leo played just days ago, if only so he could hear it again. He knew it would have soothed his frayed nerves.

Ravi eventually fell asleep on the couch waiting for Leo to get home. The house filled with the spicy aroma of his chicken dish as it cooked, but he snoozed on, unaffected, well into the night.

It was nearly midnight when Taekwoon finally pulled into his garage. He couldn't help but let out a small sigh of relief when he killed the engine. Finally, he was home. He'd texted Ravi when he landed, but it had gone unanswered. He wasn't particularly worried, but he would be lying if he said he wasn't mildly disheartened. It was different, now, coming home to someone. When he would come back from jobs previously, he felt almost hollow. Work kept him busy, but nothing either home or abroad truly fulfilled him.

He unlocked and opened the door slowly, calling out in a soft voice, “Ravi? Ravi, I'm home.”

Taekwoon hung his coat and scarf by the door and dropped off his suitcase before padding down the hall. The scent of the crockpot meal assailed him, and god, after horrendous boxed airline food and paltry snacks, it was the most amazing smell to be greeted with. He stopped by the kitchen, noticing the meal was essentially done, however, the rice cooker had been left out and prepped but not yet started. He poured in the rice and water and started the machine before going to look for Ravi.

He found him asleep on the couch, lying at what looked like a quite painful angle, with one leg draped over the top of the sofa while his other spanned the length of it. His head was also nearly hanging off the armrest. Taekwoon chuckled to himself at the sight, but left him be to go shower and change. When he emerged from his room, the rice was ready and the younger man was still in the same position as before.

“Ravi.” Taekwoon said softly, crouching in front of him and gently shaking his shoulder. He repeated himself, a teasing, sing-song lilt in his tone. “Ravi~ I've come home to you, wake up Ravi~!”

The younger man groaned, eyes fluttering before he finally opened them. Upon seeing who it was that woke him, he bolted upright excitedly. “Leo! You're home! How was your flight?”

“Miserable, but thank you for asking. The turbulence always makes people nervous and being in a small, pressurized space that high off the ground with hundreds of nervous strangers is exhausting.” When Ravi’s feet moved to rest on the floor, he placed his hand on the younger man’s knee. “And what about you? Did you keep yourself entertained?”

“As much as I was able. Are you hungry? I cooked.” Ravi made a seething sort of noise, however, suddenly distressed. “Oh no… I meant to make rice.”

The hitman chuckled, ruffling his hair and pressing a gentle kiss to Ravi’s forehead as he stood. “I noticed and I turned on the rice cooker before showering. Come on, it should be ready to eat.”

Ravi just sort of stared at him, dumbfounded for a moment, before finally murmuring an “okay” and following him to the kitchen.

Ravi hurriedly plated the food while Taekwoon got them drinks, and soon after they were settled at the kitchen bar together to eat. It was… pleasant. Being here with someone made Taekwoon feel human. So many times he'd sat in this same spot and eaten food that may as well have tasted like ash in his mouth, nothing more than fuel for a machine whose sole purpose was to kill.

“I think I overcooked it.” Ravi said sheepishly as he mixed the rice with his chicken and sauce concoction.

Taekwoon was already digging in, so he had to swallow what he had in his mouth first before responding with a small laugh. “No, it's perfect. I'm tired so I don't feel like chewing too much.”

Ravi’s gaze lingered on him for a long while, but he didn't know what to say. It occurred to him in that moment that his host hadn't once become upset with or irritated by him. Of course, for the first few weeks he'd walked on eggshells, not wanting to ruin a good thing. But he felt as though he had received nothing but endless patience from Leo. It was a far cry from the crass, negative attitude the man had shown when they first met. Then again, he supposed having been shot could make one irritable.

“Are you not hungry or was your plan to poison me?” The older man teased when he noticed Ravi hadn't been eating.

The blond turned bright crimson. “Sorry, I was just… lost in thought, I guess.”

He shoveled down several mouthfuls just to avoid saying or doing anything else idiotic. Leo seemed to be watching him, a bemused grin on his face as he ate. Once they'd finished, Leo took up the dishes as he always did, but Ravi gently nudged him away from the sink when he tried to wash them.

“You're probably jet-lagged to hell. Why don't you relax? I'll handle this.”

The older man smiled and thanked him, squeezing his shoulder before going to get his suitcase to move it into his room. While he was unpacking, Taekwoon remembered Ravi’s gift. He tossed all his clothes into a hamper, set his guns aside for cleaning (getting them through customs in one’s checked baggage was a breeze when you had the connections) and grabbed the tiny black gift bag before heading back down the hall.

Ravi had finished the dishes, and had made his way to the couch while he let the rice cooker and crock pot soak. Even though he'd only been gone for minutes, his face still lit up when the older man came back out.

“I figured you were gonna call it a night.” He said, scooting over so he wasn't taking up so much space on the center of the couch.

Taekwoon sat next to him, grinning. “Admittedly I'm both tired and completely wired, horrible side effect of sleeping on long flights. But I forgot to give you this.” He handed over the gift bag. At the other’s confused look, he clarified. “Your souvenir from London.”

Ravi had a habit of becoming very bashful when he was given things, and his humble response to gifts was something Taekwoon had come to absolutely adore about him. “I… you didn't actually need to get me anything, really, Leo, I-”

“I had already bought it when you mentioned it. Now open it.” The hitman said, sitting down on the couch next to him and nudging the younger man’s thigh with his sock-covered toes.

Ravi complied, pulling the small leather box out of its bag with care. He gingerly opened it, finding a gold and silver (or was that platinum?) watch with a sleek yet elegant design, the face faintly reading “Burberry London”. It was clearly very expensive. Ravi didn't have any words.

“I noticed you were wearing a watch the day we met… it wasn't working, however, it was a stylish one, so I assumed you had some taste. But it was gone before I left you.” Taekwoon gently took the watch off its cradle and slipped it onto Ravi’s wrist, clasping it into place. It fit perfectly, as if he'd already removed the precise amount of links needed in order for it to do so. “I realized that likely meant you had sold it to get enough money to buy those drugs for me. So I thought I'd get you another. One that ticks.”

“I don't… know what to say…” Ravi all but whispered, eyes still fixated on the elegant face of the watch. He had done exactly that. How had he been able to figure that out?

“You don't need to say anything. Just wear it.” Taekwoon told him, setting the bag and the box with the extra links on the coffee table. He groaned, stretching out and laying his head on Ravi’s lap. The younger man was slightly surprised by the action and sat stock-still, terrified of moving in some way that would disturb him enough to make him stop. “In any case, why don't you put on the History channel tonight? My eyes are too weary to read. Maybe a good documentary will knock me out.”

“O...okay...” Ravi responded softly, thanking every god he could think of that the remote was right next to him on the sofa’s arm. He put on a documentary about some eighteenth century European political something-or-other but didn't pay a lick of attention to it. He was too busy trying to work up the courage to react with something other than complete shock and terror.

Finally, after what felt like ages, Ravi willed himself to gently—ever so gently—run his fingers through Leo’s hair, his other hand resting on the man’s shoulder. His hair was somehow softer than it looked, which didn't seem possible, and blessedly, the other man didn't seem to mind one bit. Ravi even swore he felt him let out a contented little noise, the vibrations of it upon his thigh sending a thrill up his spine. Eventually, the other man apparently dozed off, his breathing even and peaceful, and God himself could not have made Ravi move from that couch and disturb him. His neck would hate him in the morning, but he spent the night there with Leo sleeping comfortably in his lap.

***

Ravi was going absolutely crazy.

He was more than delighted to have Leo back. But something was different. The older man was almost… more affectionate. As if being away had made him realize just how much he enjoyed Ravi’s company. That was, of course, Ravi’s wish… but it still felt like a pipe dream. He was certain that he was nothing more than a little adolescent boy with a crush; pitiful and destined to have his heart broken.

The issue was… Leo didn't make any attempt to push beyond the comfortable, familiar, affectionate actions, and Ravi was terrified that if he took that leap himself, he would end up ruining what they _had_ built if the other man didn't feel the same. Before Leo left, Ravi had psyched himself up to take the plunge, convinced that Leo would not spurn him or hold his feelings against him. But now, he’d lost his nerve. He couldn't shake the fear that wanting more from this, from them, would only result in it completely crumbling around him. It was the only good thing in his life… he didn't want to risk losing it.

They went back to cooking and washing the dishes together. They composed together, and Ravi had managed to convince Leo to let him record his playing (it had been an easy conversation; Leo agreed immediately, his reasoning simply, “If it will help you”). Ravi had shown him a few things he was working on, humming out a few of the hooks and a bit of a chorus he’d been toying with for the last several days. He set his laptop on the piano so the other man could reference it while playing. Leo just ran with it, his elegant fingers flying over the keys as he seemed to create an entire song from just what little Ravi had given him.

Ravi was watching him raptly, as he always did, but then, Leo’s eyes rested upon the laptop’s screen, and he started _singing_. Softly, at first, as if he was mentally trying to work out where the lyrics belonged in his composition, but what started as a quiet murmur eventually rose with the crescendo of the music to a beautiful accompaniment. Leo’s voice was gorgeous, hitting the high notes he was playing with ease. It had an almost falsetto quality, fading out softly with the notes coming from the black and white keys.

He found himself wondering if the mysteries surrounding this beautiful man would ever cease.

“Ravi?” He didn’t realize the other man had been talking until hearing his name pulled him from his stupor.

“Wh-what? Sorry, I-” He didn’t have an excuse. He just trailed off and left it there.

The man at the piano chuckled. “It’s okay. I was just saying, I wasn’t sure if that was what you had in mind for the lyrics, but they were very beautiful so I couldn’t help myself but to include them.”

Ravi was stammering. “No, it was… perfect. It was really beautiful. I wasn’t expecting… and your voice, it’s-”

“It’s not much, I know. But I did go to music school before I became a… consultant.” He smiled. “I will transcribe this to sheet music for easy reference, and you can tell me how you’d like the lyrics to fit in.”

Honest to God, Ravi actually let out a frustrated whine. “Not much? No, Leo, your voice is beautiful. I wasn’t expecting it. You’re so… soft-spoken.”

The older man just shrugged. “My music teacher told me the same thing. She asked me how I could be so quiet in class but belt any song put in front of me.”

“I can’t really sing. I like to rap. I wrote the song with the intention of rapping most of the words, with the opposing underlay of the elegant piano. I thought it would highlight the emotional struggle in the lyrics.” Ravi explained. “But… I think it would be even more poignant if you were to sing parts of it, like that.”

“And just what do you plan to do with this music, Ravi?” Taekwoon asked with an almost teasing smirk.

“Post it, I suppose. On the internet? Get a following, if I’m lucky?” The younger man sighed. “I can’t delude myself into thinking some big record label would sign me, but, it’s always been a dream of mine to share my music with the world, and for the world to appreciate it.”

He wanted to say, that he hoped to make at least some money from it, because how else was he supposed to continue living in Leo’s home like this, not contributing in any way other than the few times he cooked? He felt like a kept boy, and honestly, he could have lived with that if Leo would ask him for a physical relationship. He didn’t care if other people looked down upon it… he was skillful and he was happy to make use of that. He would gladly get on his knees and earn his keep, especially from someone who treated him as kindly as Leo did. Hell, if he’d found a John as kind as Leo when he was younger, he would have gotten off the streets years ago. But as it stood, Leo didn’t want that from him at all, as far as he could tell. 

“You should post them. I think you could do well for yourself.” The words pulled Ravi out of his line of thought.

The younger man raised an incredulous eyebrow at him. “You’ve never heard me rap, how would you know I’m any good?”

Leo chuckled. “I hear you rap all the time. When you do laundry. When you’re cooking. In the shower. I think your flow is very natural and powerful. I believe people will enjoy listening to you.”

Ravi’s face was red. He’d heard him rap in the shower? Gods, he hoped that was _all_ he’d managed to hear him doing in the shower. “Oh. Uh… well… we can… cross that bridge when we, you know, have an actual song finished.”

The pianist grinned at him. “All right.”

It would be a while until they had their collaborative songs finished, but in the meanwhile, the confidence boost had been enough to convince Ravi to finally post one of his own solo tracks online.

The response had been more positive than he could have possibly hoped for, and it put him in a fantastic mood for a solid week.

***

In the following weeks, Taekwoon took jobs more steadily, but tried to keep them relatively close to home. Something did come up, however, a few months after Ravi came to live with him that took him a little farther away than he would have liked.

“I’ll be flying to Europe for a few days.” He had told Ravi the morning after he accepted the job. “I’m meeting with some colleagues today to go over the details today, and then I fly out tonight.”

The younger man just accepted it, though the hitman could tell he was not exactly thrilled under his mask of apathy. “All right. Just come back in one piece, and… no expensive souvenirs this time.”

“No promises.” Taekwoon told him with a grin and a wink.

***

The organization was abuzz when Taekwoon arrived. He earned more stares and whispered comments than usual. He had a reputation, of course, but this was different. He made his way to his favorite weapons dealer, not bothering to let it get to him.

“Well if it isn’t the famous Leo.” Hyuk, his favorite gun broker, piped up as he walked through the door.

Taekwoon just rolled his eyes. “Indeed.”

“I heard you took the Shangri-La job. I always knew you had balls but jeez, man. Fuck me up.” Hyuk balked, shaking his head. “I'll double your usual discount just so you actually buy enough gear for this. And because it might be your last time buying from me so I'm trying to be nice.”

“I took the Chae job and came back alive despite the client’s best attempts.” Taekwoon reminded him. “Business deals break down every day. The Italians will get over it.”

“The Italians are gonna go all Al Capone on you.” Hyuk intoned. “Theyre gonna go Paul Yakavetta on you. They're gonna go Vito Corleone on you.”

“If they catch me.” Taekwoon quipped. “And those were Italian-Americans. These are actual European Italians. Their mob structure is entirely different.”

“Whatever, they're still gonna make your life hell. Make you swim with the fishes or… whatever they do.” Hyuk murmured, clearly genuinely concerned.

Taekwoon snorted. “You watch way too many American gangster films. They're not really like that at all.”

“Well whatever, you're still going to need a lot of firepower. Let me set you up.” And Hyuk took his time doing just that, making sure Taekwoon left with a myriad of new weaponry.

The thing about the Shangri-La job was this:

The Italian mafia was not doing so great at the moment. With the recent death of their Don, his son had taken over. And while it was a position he had been groomed for, several bad business decisions had left the empire weakened financially. In dire straights, the young man’s uncle called in his Marker.

A Marker was a symbol of debt used by mob families and by members of the organization. It was a blood-oath, unbreakable except by death or fulfillment of the debt. Decades before, when the Triads were going through a rough time, they had made a deal with the Italians that gave them the foothold they needed to boost them to the success and prosperity they now enjoyed. To protect their Don from retaliation, the Marker was held by his brother. This Marker entitled its holder to any favor from the debtor, and now, that favor was being called in.

There was an exchange going down soon which was being called the “Shangri-La Deal”. The specifics of the deal were not entirely known to the organization, but both parties stood to gain hundreds of millions from it. Initially, the Triads intended to go in with the Russians, who were currently a powerhouse in both Asia and Europe. But when the Italians swooped in and called in the Marker, that left the Russians out in the cold. Normally, Markers were respected, but the Bratva did not appreciate being crossed on the best of days. It was clear this deal meant a lot to them, and so they were likely the ones who had called in the hit.

The hit, of course, was for the Italian holding the Marker. If he was dead, the Marker meant nothing.

Taekwoon was on the red eye that night to Rome, death incarnate in an Armani suit.


	3. Chapter 3

As anticipated by its reputation, the Shangri-La job had been one for the books.

Taekwoon had ended up running for his life in the catacombs under an ancient Italian castle, soaking wet, and his hearing probably wouldn’t be back to normal for a week, because stone walls, tiny spaces and gunshots did not mix very well.

Ears still ringing and feeling like he had cotton stuffing in his head, but otherwise not much worse for wear, he managed to set up an extraction to get him out of the country not in a bodybag. It took him a little longer to get back to South Korea, given the detours he’d taken out of precaution, but only three days after he’d left, he was back home.

He opened the door to have Ravi greet him with a relieved hug, and honest to god it was the best feeling in the world.

They had lunch together, Taekwoon answering Ravi’s questions about Italy. The younger man was endlessly amused to hear once more that there had been a plethora of pigeons. Taekwoon also gave him his souvenir; a Venetian mask in elegant red and gold, to hang in his room. Ravi adored it.

He had to apologize for not calling him or texting with updates, as his phone had gotten lost during travel (truthfully it had been utterly destroyed when he fell into that massive fountain while engaging enemy forces in hand-to-hand combat, but he couldn’t exactly tell him that). Ravi was understanding, but it was clear he’d been worried sick. He felt terrible for having caused him so much concern and considered getting a nice protective case for his replacement phone.

As after most jobs, Taekwoon was dead tired, so he laid on the couch and let Ravi play some of the songs he’d been mixing on his computer for him. To his credit, the hitman had stayed awake for most of them, even offering kind words of encouragement after the first few, but it wasn’t long before he dozed off. When the sun went down, Ravi nudged him awake and made him move to his bedroom, only because he deserved to sleep in a comfortable bed after a stressful business trip. Taekwoon was out again the moment his head hit the pillow.

The next morning he awoke keenly aware that he was coming down with something.

His throat was on fire and his nose was stuffed. His head felt horrible, only compounded by the damage to his eardrums. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this miserable. Even having been sick a few months prior, damn his weak immune system to hell, he didn’t feel _this_ bad. He just rolled over and tried to get back to sleep, not ready to get up and face this misery.

He faintly heard knocking some hours later, which awoke him. Ravi was saying something beyond the door, but he couldn’t make it out. He sat up in bed and groaned a little, not really capable of forming words just yet. The door swung open and in stepped a rather worried-looking Ravi. His face fell when he saw the hitman.

“Sorry, you’re usually up and I didn’t want to disturb you but I was concerned.” He crossed the room, sitting down on the bed next to him. “Are you feeling all right? You look miserable.”

“I am.” Taekwoon croaked. “The weather, jetlag, and being around all those people in the airport must’ve gotten me.”

Ravi brought the back of his hand up, feeling his forehead, his cheek and then his neck. “You’re burning up… you definitely have a fever. I saw you had a medicine collection, let me get you something, and I’ll make some soup.”

“You don’t need to baby me.” Taekwoon mumbled. ‘I kill people for a living, I can handle some sniffles’, he wanted to say, but didn’t. He could hardly hear Ravi when he talked, his muffled deep voice mostly drowned out by the constant ringing in his ears, but he was able to read his lips for the most part.

“It’s not babying. Just pretend it’s another gunshot wound.” Ravi teased, patting his thigh through the duvet. “You relax. I’ll be back in a bit.”

Taekwoon made a face, but he really didn’t have a choice, so he just laid back down and let out another miserable groan.

Put him against a half-dozen armed guards any day, but he hated being sick.

To his credit, however, Ravi was a delight. He managed to find the cold medicine (Taekwoon kept a supply, since winter always wrought havoc on his respiratory system), as well as a thermometer. He did have a fever, but nothing concerning enough for a hospital. More than that, however, he made Taekwoon a phenomenal batch of samgye-tang which he made extra spicy, so much so that it managed to clear his sinuses better than the medicine had. He’d come to learn that Ravi disliked spicy foods, unlike himself. For him, the hotter the better. The soup lasted them a couple days, after which Ravi made gukbap, which was just as spicy. Taekwoon was already feeling leagues better by the third day, managing to move himself to the couch so they could at least watch the History Channel together. He hated being cooped up in his room. He felt as though Ravi was lonely. All that time he’d spent living with groups of others in situations just like his… he imagined it made the times when he was alone feel even more isolated.

By the fifth day, he was feeling mostly back to normal, and his hearing had largely returned as well. It was nice to hear Ravi’s voice again. Taekwoon spent a lot of time dozing off on the couch, but whenever he was awake, Ravi engaged him for as long as he could stand to stay conscious. It was endearing.

It was evening, and they had already eaten dinner… Taekwoon finally convincing Ravi he could handle more solid foods and didn’t need something so saturated in broth. He’d obliged him with dak-galbi, but made him add the spicy sauce on his own plate because Ravi actually wanted to partake in that meal. They were relaxing on the couch, the younger man typing away at his computer while Taekwoon read. It was much how they typically spent their evenings together. But something unexpected interrupted them.

_DING DONG_

The chime of the doorbell echoed through the house, causing both men to straighten up and look toward the door. Ravi pulled his headphones down around his neck.

“You expecting someone?”

Taekwoon shook his head, standing. Ravi made to get up, too, but he quelled him with a gesture to remain there. He subtly picked up his 9mm from underneath the table in the hallway before cracking the door.

Whoever was behind it merely forced it open, knocking Taekwoon back and causing his gun to clatter to the floor. Four men entered, clad in black. The first grabbed the hitman by the collar and dragged him into the living room.

Ravi clambered to his feet and ditched his laptop and headphones, glancing between the strangers and his host. They weren't Korean, likely European from the look of them, but he spoke to them in his native language anyway. “Who the hell are you? Let him go! Leo, what’s-?”

“Ooh, and who do we have here in the lion’s den, Leo?” The man holding him snarled in Italian, practically leering at the younger man.

“Ravi, run! Go!” Taekwoon shouted in Korean, only for his captor to haul off and punch him hard in the face. He tasted blood, and his vision swam slightly.

Ravi tried, to his credit… bounding over the couch and trying to cut across the room before the men could grab him, but he was intercepted and dragged, thrashing and yelling, into Taekwoon’s field of view behind his captor.

“Ravi...” Drawled the Italian man holding Taekwoon, a quirk of interest in his tone. “And just _who_ are you to our proud Leo? I always thought he worked alone… and you certainly don’t seem like a romantic interest...”

“Leave him alone.” Taekwoon snarled in the stranger’s own tongue. “Your business is obviously with me.”

“That you are absolutely right about.” The man intoned. “Heard _you_ took the Shangri-La job. The whole company is in shambles now thanks to you, and my boss isn’t thrilled about that. So, he asked me to make a house call.”

Taekwoon grunted. “Really? So you track me down at home? That’s a bit unprofessional.”

“Oh fuck off.” His captor growled, punching him again. Fresh blood bloomed from his nose. “It’s business. I’m efficient.”

Ravi struggled against the grip of the man still holding him, tears burning in the corners of his eyes. His voice was a rasp of desperation. “Leo...”

“Oh, your little pet here is adorable. Maybe a romantic interest after all.” The man sneered. “Shut him up, would you?”

The man holding Ravi raised the pistol he had on him and smacked him hard with the butt of it. He grunted in pain, but before his captor could level his gun again, he launched himself upward and knocked it from his hands, landing a solid punch across his jaw that knocked him back several paces.

The ringleader was distracted and Taekwoon took his chance, pushing the man’s gun-hand away from him and hitting him with a single, efficient strike to his throat. He gagged and staggered back, giving Taekwoon a chance to knock him back further with a strong elbow-strike to the jaw. When the man hit the floor, he kicked the gun away and turned just in time to see the fourth thug making for Ravi, who was picking up the gun from his own attacker.

Taekwoon moved swiftly, taking the gun from Ravi’s grip and turning him, pressing his hand against the younger man’s ear and holding him so tightly against him that the other ear was firmly against his hair. The attacker was nearly on top of them, so he lifted his leg and kicked him firmly in the chest to back him up. Once he had his own footing again, he fired exactly four shots, none missing. The first downed the man nearest them, the second their leader, the third was for the man who’d held Ravi, and the final shot killed the man who was scrabbling toward the door, trying to escape.

Their ears rang in the silence that followed, though Ravi was not nearly as affected, he noticed, as Taekwoon released him. He dropped the gun onto the ringleader’s chest before taking Ravi’s face in both his hands, looking him over. His temple was bleeding, but it didn’t appear to be deep enough for stitches.

“Are you all right?” Taekwoon asked calmly. Ravi was breathing heavily, eyes wide as dinner-plates.

“Y-yes, I’m… but… you… and they...” He couldn’t seem to form sentences. He took a long breath before letting it out and trying again. “They were here to kill you, weren't they? And you… you killed them first.”

“Yes.” Taekwoon replied, letting go of his face to run his hands down Ravi’s arms. “I’m sorry that this happened… usually my work doesn’t follow me home. It’s… well, it’s frowned upon, but generally I’m not the one who’s a target.”

Ravi blinked at him. “You’re a _hitman_.”

Taekwoon pressed his lips together, nodding. “Yes.”

Ravi nodded in return, his eyes swimming with a million thoughts. He seemed to be processing everything at record speed. Part of him suspected, but seeing it all, like this, made him a little queasy. He motioned to the bodies. “And them?”

“I’ll have it handled. Let me make a call, and then I can dress your wound.” Taekwoon soothed.

Ravi just nodded again, almost absently. “Yeah… yours, too.”

Taekwoon grabbed his phone and dialed a number from memory. Ravi only heard his side of the conversation. “I’d like a dinner reservation for four, please… Your earliest table, yes… Thank you.”

Ravi looked a bit confused, but Taekwoon waved off his concern. He seemed to know better than to ask questions. The hitman gathered some things, including a first aid kit from his bathroom, setting it on his bed. It was only ten minutes later that the doorbell rang. Ravi nearly jumped out of his skin, but Taekwoon comforted him with a hand on his shoulder, telling him to go to his bedroom. He waited for the younger man to comply before going to the door. 

He let the men in to do their work, disappearing into the bedroom with Ravi to give them space. He was already sitting on the bed, opening the first aid kit by the time Taekwoon joined him.

“They’ll have everything cleaned up in no time. Let me see that.” The hitman said, taking the kit and sitting down on the bed next to Ravi. He expertly cleaned and disinfected the wound before bandaging it with some butterfly strips so it could heal properly. As soon as he was done, Ravi grabbed the kit.

“You next, Leo.” He insisted, picking up the gauze and getting to work cleaning the blood from the hitman’s face.

“Taekwoon.” He corrected softly. “My name. It’s Taekwoon. Leo, it… it’s kind of a callsign. It’s attached to a reputation I’d like to keep far from you. Even if that seems impossible, now.”

Ravi smiled at him, gently dabbing his split lip with Neosporin. “Thank you… for trusting me with that. I…” His face fell suddenly, eyes trained on his own lap. “I've been ‘Ravi’ so long, I guess I just considered the old me dead, just like my parents do. That's not me anymore.”

Taekwoon gently cupped Ravi’s cheek, his gaze sympathetic. “You don't need to be anyone else for me. If you are Ravi, then you are Ravi. You don't need to say anything more.”

The younger man nodded, leaning into the touch. “And what about you?”

The hitman let out a huff of a laugh. “To be honest… I wouldn’t hate if I never heard the moniker ‘Leo’ ever again.”

“Very well, Taekwoon.” Ravi replied, saying his name with a kind of surety that made it seem he’d never known him by any other.

Once Ravi finished dressing his wounds… which could really only be covered with a bandage on his eyebrow and the bridge of his nose, Taekwoon went to check on their visitors, telling the younger man to stay put. The cleaners were just finishing up, so Taekwoon paid them and saw them out, thanking them for their services. He returned to his room to find Ravi still sitting on the end of his bed, though his knees were now curled up close to his chest, his arms wrapped around them. He didn't look distressed so much as contemplative.

“They've finished and gone.” Taekwoon told him. The faint smell of bleach wafted in behind him, but faded when he closed the door. “Are you all right?”

Ravi gave him a small nod, though his expression was still pensive.

Taekwoon frowned, crossing the room to kneel on the carpet at the foot of the bed. He rested his head on Ravi’s shin, gentle hands settling on his calves. “I'm sorry you had to witness that. I'm sorry that they hurt you. I wish I could say that I wanted to take it all back, that I regret you were even here, but… I can't. I won't ever regret your presence here with me, but… I apologize that my work life has bled into this home. I never wanted you dragged into it.”

“So… what now?” Ravi asked, his raw voice barely more than a whisper.

Taekwoon didn’t even look up at him. “We’ll have to be doubly cautious in the future.”

“Oh, thank god.” Ravi murmured, finally unspooling from the protective position he was in, forcing the hitman to sit back and meet his gaze. “I thought… I thought you were going to ask me to leave. For my own safety, or in some attempt to protect me…”

“ _I will_ protect you.” Taekwoon told him, a fierce promise. “I can only do that with you by my side. I can't promise there will never be danger, but I swear I will always keep you safe.”

“I know you will.” Ravi replied with a sigh of relief. He carded a hand into Taekwoon’s hair, his expression agonized. The hitman had always been an expert at reading people… and what he saw in his eyes was not terror, or disgust, or even shock. There were a million questions warring there upon his face, but none about Taekwoon or his work, or what he was capable of. No, it was a clear query… what did this mean for them? What was this, between them? But above all, beyond all the question, one emotion was the loudest: it was fear of rejection… the one thing he'd received in spades from everyone else in his life.

He wouldn't make Ravi ask. He wasn't sure he would even have an answer if he did. But he knew he would rend entire armies if it meant the man’s safety… he would raze the world itself to the ground if he had to. He didn't know what name to give that feeling. Maybe there wasn't one he would ever find sufficient.

Taekwoon’s hand rested upon the one Ravi had in his hair, and he leaned up, crawling onto the bed before him and hooking the long fingers of his free hand behind the other man’s neck, pulling him into a soft kiss. Ravi let out a delightful sound that the other immediately committed to memory before wrapping his unoccupied arm around the hitman’s waist, encouraging him even closer, nearly in his lap now.

Ravi pulled desperately at the hem of Taekwoon’s shirt and he leaned back just enough to lift his arms and allow him to rid him of it before he dove back in and kissed him again with renewed fervor. He only broke the contact again for long enough to swiftly pull off his own shirt, pitching it across the room. Ravi had a tattoo just under his collarbone, English lettering of a common and popular phrase, “You Only Live Once”. Taekwoon found it rather poignant, but beyond that, he could not help but admire the smooth, immaculate lines of his torso. His own was riddled with scars, but Ravi’s was a blank canvas save for the artwork in ink he had willingly had etched upon it.

Ravi didn’t seem to mind… he’d seen him shirtless before, of course, although the circumstances had been much different. His hand found the bundle of scar tissue on his side which had been an open, bleeding wound the last time he saw it. He brushed his thumb across it before dipping his fingers into the waistband of his sweatpants, nudging them down. Taekwoon obliged and slid them off with his boxers, peeling Ravi’s own off once he was rid of his. He settled between the younger man’s legs and dug his fingers into his hips, pressing a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses over his thigh and hip bone. His tongue flicked over the vee of Ravi’s hip and he felt the man below him jolt.

Taekwoon let a long line of saliva dribble from his mouth across Ravi’s cock before he took him into his hand, slicking him up. Ravi jolted again, letting out a low moan and scrabbling for some kind of grip on him. The older man chuckled softly under his breath and leaned up, but only just, letting his mouth play along his navel, his tongue flicking over the sensitive skin near his pubic bone. 

After a long moment, Ravi made to roll over, because this… this he was familiar with. How to submit. They had not been his best days, his first few years out on the streets… not for what he “had” to do, because, admittedly, he did not hate the work; he rather enjoyed it. The empowerment and the money, and even the pleasure. But the people, and the way they treated him… it had pushed him away from the work and he'd never been eager to return. Past his high school boyfriend, he'd never been with a man who wasn't a John. He had forgotten how to receive pleasure. He only knew he had to give it, to feel as though he was worthy.

But Taekwoon's free hand held fast to his hips, keeping his ass firmly against the bed. Ravi whined, pouting as he looked down at the other man, who was still eagerly teasing him, dribbling another long line of saliva over his cock before his hand began to move faster over him, drawing out another moan.

“God… I want you to fuck me, Taekwoon… please...” Ravi groaned, bucking his hips into that obscenely perfect feeling.

“Not tonight.” The other man replied softly. There was almost a ring of amusement in his tone, so he knew it was not because he was disgusted or unwilling.

“Taekwoon… please… why won’t you fuck me?” Ravi whinged.

But the older man just grinned patiently, grinding their cocks together as he climbed up the length of him so they were face-to-face. “Because I don’t have any condoms and I’m not going to make you uncomfortable.”

He wrapped one of his hands around the both of them, his elegant fingers so long that he could easily grip them together. Ravi lurched at the renewed contact, letting out a stuttered, desperate noise which Taekwoon eagerly swallowed as he kissed him, slow and sweet. Tears pricked at the corners of Ravi’s eyes and he let out a sob of a moan as the older man rocked against him, their cocks sliding together with intense friction that was almost a little overwhelming.

“Taek… Taekwoon, please-!” Ravi whined into the breath of space left between them when they pulled back for air.

“Shh… shh...” The other man shushed him softly, kissing the tears away as they spilled over the apples of his cheeks. Ravi tasted the salt-tang of them when they kissed again, open-mouthed and desperate between hitched breaths and low moans. “I’m right here, Ravi. Just come for me.”

Ravi let out a sound like a shrill whimper, back arching as he did exactly as Taekwoon had asked. His blunt nails raked over the other man’s broad shoulders desperately, the steady cadence of his hips never erring as he worked him through it. Taekwoon never took his eyes off him, watching him the entire time, his own breaths coming out in ragged pants. When Ravi shivered under him, his hips stuttered and he pressed their foreheads together, gasping out a litany of the other man’s name as he came.

Eventually Taekwoon stilled, the two of them breathing shakily together as they came down from their respective highs. Ravi was the first to move, his hands carding into the other’s hair again to pull him closer for a deep and languid kiss. He supposed the mess between them could wait for a moment.

After a long while, he finally had enough motivation to peel himself away, kissing Ravi’s forehead and promising to return shortly. He did, coming back to the bed with a warm washcloth and wiping them both down, but taking special care of Ravi, kissing him almost reverently as he cleaned him up. He tossed the rag into the laundry basket across the room before sliding back into the bed, pulling Ravi against his side and petting softly through his hair. The younger man settled against his chest contentedly, and when he looked up to meet his eyes, he saw Taekwoon was already watching him with a fond expression.

“What?” Ravi asked in something like a bashful tone.

Taekwoon just smiled at him, running his thumb over his uninjured temple. “I’m just… glad you’re here with me, and… I want you to know that I’ll never let anything like that attack happen again. I’ll always protect you.”

Ravi smiled back, leaning into his touch. “I know.”

“Good. Sleep well knowing that I am here.” Taekwoon told him.

And he did.

 

Ravi awoke to sunlight spearing through the windows just as it had after the night he'd accidentally fallen asleep in Taekwoon’s bed. Except, this time, he was under the covers and very much allowed to be there. He also wasn't alone. He was still draped over Taekwoon’s chest, the other man’s arm encircling him. He felt like he’d gotten the best sleep of his life.

When he stirred, the man beneath him chuckled and ran his hand in soothing circles across his shoulder. “Good morning. You’re finally awake.”

“Oh yeah, you’re an obscenely early riser, aren’t you?” Ravi grumbled, burying his face against the other man’s pectorals.

“I am. But I couldn’t possibly disturb you.” Taekwoon explained, moving his hand to pet through his hair, now. “What do you think of getting brunch in the city? We’re running low on food since I haven’t been able to go out, being sick.”

Ravi grunted. “Meh.”

Taekwoon let out a peal of laughter, amused. “Oh? Why not? You love food.”

“Mmnn… because I hardly want to leave this bed, let alone the house.” Ravi murmured, pressing gentle kisses across Taekwoon’s bare chest.

Taekwoon chuckled softly, wrapping his arms around the younger man and pulling him close for a languid kiss. His mouth was cottony and he was sluggish with sleep, but he didn't care. It was perfect.

It was more than he felt he deserved. But for Ravi, he would do anything, and if this brought him happiness, too, then he would count his blessings.


	4. Chapter 4

They barely made it out of bed all morning, but eventually Taekwoon cajoled Ravi with promises of food and he couldn't deny his grumbling stomach for long. The former was finally feeling well enough to cook, so he prepared some less-than-spicy shrimp ramyun. After eating, they tangled up with each other on the couch, Ravi not bothering to sit on the other sofa as he often did. He reveled in the closeness, it seemed, never wanting to put more than a foot between them if he could help it.

They'd settled into a contented silence, watching the news since Taekwoon had been too ill to care enough to keep up with current events in the last several days. When the weather portion of the broadcast came up, Ravi spoke.

“Could I ask you something?”

“Of course.” Taekwoon replied indulgently.

“How did… you become a hitman, exactly?” Despite the context, Ravi didn't seem nervous to ask.

“Well, that's a fair question. It's not a normal application process, certainly. Why do you ask?” Taekwoon queried.

Ravi shrugged. “It's just… you're so… patient, and gentle, and understanding, and artistic. I don't exactly think ‘professional killer’ when I look at you.”

Taekwoon let out a laugh, shrugging. “That's ironic, since I believe that much of my patience comes from my training.” He laced his fingers with Ravi’s, a pensive look on his face. “I was recruited from the military. The organization looks for certain things in your file, and of course, your skills. I had no family and I was highly proficient in both weapons training and unarmed combat. My psych evaluations indicated a low level of empathy, but not enough to disqualify me from service. They pulled me under the pretense of special ops candidacy, but it turned out they had no government affiliation. It's a business, to them. It's a network. Once you're in, you're connected to a global conglomerate of killers, and people who work with them. They trained me and I excelled.”

“I can feel a sniper sighting in on me the more information you give.” Ravi teased.

Taekwoon nudged him, shaking his head with a soft chuckle. “No one’s watching me that fervently. And in any case, it's a secretive organization of course, but it's not as though every single interconnected person involved has to undergo an initiation. There are people who work for the organization who will never even see a hitman or meet a mob boss. As long as I don't reveal specifics to you, it's not an issue.”

“Great, then I would like to know exactly zero specifics.” Ravi affirmed with a bark of a laugh. “Just don't end up like you did the day we first met. I don't think I would handle it well.”

Taekwoon offered a reassuring smile. “I’ll try to dial up my self-preservation meter for you.”

“What was it at then, like a solid four?” Ravi teased. “Okay, okay, but… in all seriousness. What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done for a job?”

“I’d rather not give you a heart attack.” Taekwoon replied, giggling.

Ravi scoffed an incredulous laugh. “That bad? Now you have to tell me.”

“All right, all right. Um...” Taekwoon hummed thoughtfully for a moment. “Ah, one time my target was staying on a well-defended remote island. I had to skydive from a plane, in scuba gear, right into the ocean and access the place from the drains. They had to extract me via helicopter, and the organization charges a lot for that.”

Ravi looked at him, doubtful. “No fucking way. That’s some shit you see in bad spy movies. You must be joking.”

“I swear on my life!” Taekwoon insisted. “There were sharks everywhere, it was actually a little terrifying.”

“Don’t swear on your life, you risk it too much. Swear on mine.” Ravi quipped.

“Fine, I swear on your life. It’s the truth.” Taekwoon obliged.

Ravi stared at him for a long moment, lips pressed together, before finally letting out a whistle. “Wow. That’s… that’s pretty ridiculous.”

“Certainly one of my wilder jobs.” Taekwoon agreed. “Though the one everyone at the organization still talks about was the time I found myself stripped of all my weapons and had to kill four men with my bare hands and a number two pencil.”

Ravi blinked. “A… pencil...”

“To be fair, I only killed two of them with the pencil. It broke after that.” Taekwoon elaborated.

Ravi was still blinking owlishly. “Well. Um. Remind me to never piss you off during mini-golf or something.”

Taekwoon snorted. “I’ve never killed anyone because I was annoyed at them. I do it for money, or because they tried to kill me first.”

Ravi smirked. “How much would someone have to pay you to make you even consider killing me?”

Taekwoon scoffed, offended. “Ravi. I would murder anyone who dared put a hit out on you, for free.”

Ravi beamed at that. “Good answer.”

“Oh, was that a test?” Taekwoon wheedled, climbing over the other man and grabbing his sides, digging his fingers in just so, in a way that would drive the other crazy. Surely enough, Ravi jerked, laughing and writhing under him. “And did I pass your little test, Ravi?”

“Yes-! Yes, just… stop!” The younger man shouted between giggles, trying to wrestle him away but to no avail. “Lemme go I can’t… breathe-!”

“I know seventeen different forms of martial arts, Ravi… I could keep you here for as long as I wanted. Until it felt like _torture_. Just remember that.” Taekwoon said, trying to sound serious or intimidating, but it was hard through the chuckles that kept slipping out, and the massive smile he was wearing.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry!” Ravi wheezed through another fit of laughter.

Taekwoon finally eased up, all but collapsing on top of the other man’s chest, wrapping his arms around him. “Good. Don’t ever go thinking I would sell you out. I wouldn’t, not for all the money in the world.”

Ravi couldn’t help but smile, running his hand through the older man’s hair as a contented warmth settled in his chest. He never had any doubt, but it still felt good to hear it.

 

Later in the day, Taekwoon finally convinced him into leaving the house and took Ravi shopping, then dropped him off at home, explaining he had an errand to run at the organization. Understanding that meant he couldn’t come, Ravi waved him away with a small, melancholy smile.

Taekwoon walked right into the organization headquarters in Seoul and asked to see N. Hearing just who was asking for him, he was let in right away.

“Leo, what a pleasant surprise.” Said the man behind the desk, turning to face him. Despite being only a year his senior, N had more power that Taekwoon would ever know.

The hitman wasted no time with pleasantries. “Was there a hit put out on me through the organization?”

N narrowed his eyes, sitting back in his ridiculous leather chair. “No, Leo. If a hit goes out, it goes to everyone. That’s the deal. You can’t pick and choose who is notified when you go through the organization. That’s why we don’t allow any direct mafia affiliations. You’re either on their payroll or you work freelance through the organization.”

“So then the team who came after me… they were sent directly by their boss.” It flatly wasn’t a question.

“An order didn’t come through us.” N confirmed, frowning. “If one does, you would get the notification just like everyone else. Which would give you a head-start. Someone actually came after _you_?”

“Yes, at home no less.” Taekwoon gave him an unamused look. “Of course I can’t expect there are provisions against such jobs being offered...”

N sighed, shrugging. “That’s the business. All’s fair and all that. I like you, Leo, but… if I start playing favorites, people won’t trust the neutrality of the organization.”

Taekwoon held up a hand to stop him, shaking his head. “No, I understand. Thank you for speaking with me.”

“Anytime… I know I can’t play favorites, but… it’s always a pleasure to see you around.” N replied with a cheeky grin. “And I wouldn't worry about it. Your reputation precedes you. If one of the bosses is hell-bent on coming after you, they'd be making a grave mistake and I wouldn't hesitate to tell them such. I can't think of more than a few members who would ever try their luck against you no matter the price tag attached, and none of them would stand a chance… in my entirely neutral opinion, of course.”

Taekwoon just rolled his eyes as he turned, offering a wave as he headed out the door.

To say he was concerned was an understatement. There was a marginal amount of relief knowing that he didn't have a hit out… but it didn't quell his anxiety. If the Italians wanted him dead, what would stop them from sending more death squads? He hoped the result of their last attempt had made them second guess their decision, but he couldn't be sure. And he couldn't just take out the entire Italian mafia either… that would absolutely end with him on a high-priority hit listing. He was essentially at the mercy of their whims.

But no… he wouldn't let them intimidate him. He'd just have to take precautions. After leaving N’s office, he headed to the tech floor in the basement, seeing his old acquaintance Hongbin as he stepped out of the stairwell.

“Leo… how the hell are you? It’s been forever, what can I do for you?” Hongbin asked, rising to shake the man’s hand.

“Wish I were better, but thanks for asking. I’m looking for some things to increase my home security.”

Hongbin grimaced, sucking air in through his teeth. “Yikes, work follow you home?”

“I’m reasonably certain it was just the one stray pack, but I’m looking to keep any further dangers away with a manageable sphere of safety.” Taekwoon picked up a stray monitor, the wires sticking out of it in every which direction. “Let me get a dozen of your best cameras, monitors and a secure network for all of them to feed into. Got anything else new and exciting I should know about?”

The techie grinned, a gleam in his eyes. “Oh, I’ve got a few treats for you.”

Twenty minutes later, he was out the door with the cameras and an appointment to have everything installed the next day.

His meeting with N had only marginally improved his mood, but Hongbin’s assurances that they could turn his house into a veritable fortress if needed was even more helpful.

Ravi was no less excited to see him when he returned, even though it had only been hours. The younger man practically pinned him to the door and kissed him breathless, which just left Taekwoon smiling like an idiot. He’d even made dinner already, which they enjoyed together.

After dinner, they put on a movie, but Ravi was utterly uninterested. He crawled his way into Taekwoon’s lap, eyes hooded as he kissed him slow and sweet. Taekwoon knew precisely what he wanted.

“Why did I bother renting this movie if you had no plans to watch it?” Taekwoon teased, smiling with his lips against Ravi’s neck.

“You can leave it on while you fuck me right here on the couch.” Ravi replied, unconcerned.

Taekwoon snorted. “Oh really? Are we tired of the bed already?”

“No, I just don't really care where it happens, as long as I get to have you.” Ravi murmured against the shell of Taekwoon’s ear. “And I know you picked up condoms at the store. So why play coy?”

“Mm, I admittedly find your directness refreshing.” Taekwoon said with another fond smile, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Don't ever be afraid to ask for what you want.”

Ravi nodded, but then he frowned, as if wrestling with himself for a moment. Taekwoon cocked his head at him, and so, he took a breath before speaking.

“I didn’t realize you didn’t have any before. I wouldn’t have asked if I’d known...” Ravi murmured, looking down. “You’re… you’re damn smart, and observant. I figured you realized what I used to do for a living by now.”

“I had my suspicions.” Taekwoon admitted. “When I brought the paintings home for you. Your immediate response was wanting to repay me on your knees.”

Ravi turned bright red. “So you _did_ notice that.”

“I notice everything.” Taekwoon told him. “Especially after your sugar daddy comment, it was hard not to put two and two together. But I never wanted to be that for you.”

“I didn’t mean to imply that—”

“Not because I find it disgusting or debasing. I don’t. I just… didn’t see you in that way. And I didn’t want you to believe that was what I expected from you.” Taekwoon explained.

“I’ll admit, I would have been damn happy with that.” Ravi snorted. “But… this is better. I just never expected you could… that _I_ would ever...”

Taekwoon’s thumb pressed softly against Ravi’s lower lip, silencing him. “Ravi, stop. You deserve everything you could ever want. I don’t care about your past. I want you, now. The you who so easily accepts the _present_ me, despite what I do.”

Ravi opened his mouth again to protest the statement, but Taekwoon moved his hand away only to silence him with a kiss. When they finally pulled apart, the younger man looked a little too dazed to make any further disparaging comments. The hitman grinned, satisfied.

“Now if you're so damn eager, go get the bag from the kitchen.”

Ravi was out of his lap faster than lightning, returning within fifteen seconds and tossing the bag onto the coffee table. He peeled his own shirt off before straddling Taekwoon’s hips again, pushing him against the cushions for a long, deep kiss.

It was Taekwoon’s turn to stare up at him a little dazedly, now, smiling fondly. The hands he'd carded into that shock of white hair slid down over his shoulders and down to his waist, settling just above his hips.

That made Ravi want to play dirty, rolling his hips down against the older man as he got to work on his top, unbuttoning the soft blue dress shirt with hurried efficiency. Once every single one was undone, he pushed the shirt from his shoulders, but he didn't get much further because Taekwoon moved him effortlessly until Ravi’s back was on the couch and he was looming over him, between his legs. He peeled his shirt off the rest of the way and pitched it across the room. The broad lines of his shoulders rippled as he leaned over him in an almost predatory manner, like a beast stalking its prey.

Ravi just stared up at him, pupils blown so wide with lust that his eyes looked black. He bit his lip, letting out an eager, needy whine as he rolled his hips upward, searching for more of that delicious friction.

Taekwoon kissed a hot trail up along Ravi’s torso, tongue flicking out teasingly over his right nipple as he dug his hands into the waistband of his pants, taking them down with his boxers all at once. He had to pull back to get them all the way off, then threw them toward the other sofa before he dipped back down, sucking a small mark into the jut of Ravi’s hip bone. His right hand reached out to feel along the coffee table, finding the bag easily. He managed to rifle through it blindly and grab the lube he'd picked up along with the condoms, efficiently flicking back the cap and drizzling some along his fingers while only using a single hand. Ravi probably would have been impressed if he wasn't so desperately turned on.

If the needy hiss the younger man let out when Taekwoon slid those slicked-up fingers between his legs was any indication, he was indeed desperate.

“Yes, Taek, fuck-!” Ravi whined, bucking his hips up to meet the sensation.

“Relax, Ravi…” Taekwoon soothed in a sweet whisper, having crawled up over him to mouth gently at his jaw. The pad of his middle finger probed against his rim, rubbing gently back and forth but not enough to breach him. “Let me take care of you. I promise I'll make you feel so good.”

In that moment, every ounce of tension left Ravi’s spine with a shivering sigh, like a bow-string being snapped in half. He all but melted back into the couch, placing every bit of his trust in Taekwoon to do just what he promised. When the man beneath him relaxed, Taekwoon was able to press his middle finger just inside, only to the second knuckle because while his fingers were not thick, they were long. Ravi let out a keening sound that was nothing short of ecstasy. Taekwoon cocked his head at the younger man, a smirk playing at his lips.

“You’re taking me so well, Ravi...” He murmured, slowly working his finger in and out, deliberately shallow.

The man under him writhed, trying to push himself down harder onto his hand as he gave another desperate sound. “Sh-shit, I’ve been… fuck—I’ve been fucking myself for weeks thinking about… what I wanted you to do with me...”

Taekwoon let out a pleased little growl, punctuated by a sharp thrust of his finger as he nipped at the younger man’s neck. “ _Oh Ravi_ … you’ll never want for anything ever again. I’ll give you all the pleasure you can stand.”

Ravi let out a breathless curse, throwing his head back over the arm of the couch. “O-oh my _god_ —!”

Taekwoon pressed a second finger in alongside the first, moving them in tandem in a torturously slow and steady cadence. Ravi lurched against him, trying to wrench out of his grip to flip over… but the hitman held fast to his hip, pressing him back down against the couch.

“Stop that.” Taekwoon breathed hotly against his ear in time with another insistent press of those fingers inside him. “I want to watch you. And I'm not going any faster no matter what position you're in.”

Ravi whimpered, but didn't protest beyond that. Instead, he focused on rolling his hips down against Taekwoon’s hand, trying to force him just a little deeper on every thrust, to prove he could take it. Eventually, Taekwoon had three fingers seated inside him to the third knuckle. If Ravi was at all uncomfortable, it didn’t show; he was still rocking against him and letting out little whining noises that were driving Taekwoon absolutely wild.

The older man curled his fingers this time as he pulled out, then pressed back in, only to repeat the motion. Ravi jolted like he’d been struck by a livewire, a loud groan punching its way from his chest. Taekwoon just held him there and fucked him slowly with his fingers, massaging the pads of each digit across his prostate, maddeningly slow.

“Please, Taekwoon… shit, I need you so fucking bad-!” Ravi begged, panting and staring at him with a sort of wild desperation. “ _Please_.”

Taekwoon couldn’t possibly deny him. He gently pulled his fingers out of him, causing Ravi to whine at the loss. He rid himself of his pants, then rifled through the bag for the condoms, ripping one open with his teeth and sliding it on. He grabbed the lube again, slicking himself up before pressing the head of his cock against the younger man’s rim. He had to grab his hips quickly to stop Ravi from just grinding down and taking him all at once, giving him an admonishing little look as he held him there and breached him slowly, too goddamn slowly.

“Fuck… yes, Taek, yes-!” Ravi moaned, and it may as well have been a thank-you, for just how wrecked and grateful he sounded. He only groaned louder as Taekwoon fully seated himself, taking a moment to let him adjust.

Taekwoon’s blood was on fire. Ravi was tight, so fucking tight, and gorgeous beneath him, watching him like he was blessed to receive anything Taekwoon deigned to give him. He could have fucked Ravi for hours, all goddamn night and into the early morning if the other man wanted, and he would have held off until Ravi had his fill, because he would have given him anything in that moment, anything in the entire world, if he’d asked.

“Please, Taek, _move_.” Ravi begged, and Taekwoon obliged.

Slow, at first, of course, because he would never dream of hurting the younger man. He pulled back until just the tip of his cock was inside him, then rolled his hips again until he was buried to the hilt. Ravi felt all the air leave his lungs, and he hooked his legs around Taekwoon’s waist, locking his ankles at the small of his back.

“ _Fuck. Me_.”

Taekwoon was shit at denying him anything.

The older man shifted on his knees, leaning over Ravi, bracing his hand on the armrest next to his head. He stared down at the man under him, pliant and needy and waiting. He wanted to give him everything. His next thrust moved the couch; it skidded almost an inch across the marble floor. Ravi wailed, back arching, grip white-knuckle on the sofa.

That was all the confirmation he needed. 

He started out slow, a steady but gentle cadence that had Ravi whimpering for more. As his sounds became more desperate, he picked up his speed until his hips were pistoning against the other man hard and fast and _just right_.

Taekwoon was not a stranger to sex, though they were not frequent companions. The few relationships of his youth felt forced and fleeting, but early in his career, he found his face and body to be just as valuable tool in manipulating clients or targets as any threat. And so it was a skill he developed, like sharpshooting or hand-to-hand. It had just been another way to utilize the desires of others.

But with Ravi? It was different. He wanted nothing from him. He wanted to make him feel so good that he'd never doubt his own worth again. Ravi was his light. He felt human when he was with him, as though his cold and unfeeling heart was merely dormant as in the icy winter, awakened by Ravi’s caring warmth. 

He was quickly learning, however, that Ravi was also his drug. He was intoxicating, and every hitch of his breath, every whimper and sigh, was driving him mad. He wanted to obliterate anyone who had ever made him feel like he was anything less than extraordinary. He could have ripped the spine from any man who’d ever treated him as anything but the treasure that he was. He was _breathtaking_.

“Taek… Taek, I'm so goddamn close, fuck—!” 

“Can you come just like this, Ravi? Without me even touching you?” He asked in a honeyed whisper, low by his ear and punctuated with every snap of his hips.

“O-oh fuck… I don't… I don't nnh-know—” Ravi admitted, but god, he wanted to.

A sly smile slowly curled its way across Taekwoon’s lips, taking it as a challenge. The arm that Taekwoon didn't have braced on the couch was clutching Ravi’s hip. He moved it beneath him, snaking his arm around his waist and splaying his palm flat against the small of his back. He applied a light amount of pressure, lifting him slightly, enough to angle his spine just so. When he snapped his hips again, Ravi let out a full-body shiver and probably the most glorious sound Taekwoon had ever heard.

Taekwoon was a connoisseur of the human body… he knew precisely where each major artery lay, where and how to apply enough pressure to induce unconsciousness or cause unimaginable pain, how to render a person paralyzed or kill them in a single motion. It stood to reason, then, that this expertise was not limited to the applications his occupation entailed. He was, in fact, more than capable of using them for the exact opposite purpose, and as he learned Ravi’s body and what he liked best, he had every intention of applying his knowledge.

“Y-yes!” Ravi yelped, and it wasn't clear if it was simply a general exclamation or a revision of his previous answer. Perhaps it was both. “Fuck, Taek… just like that… shit-”

“Come for me, Ravi. Let me hear you.” Taekwoon cooed, but it may as well have been an order because the other man was utterly helpless to disobey.

“ _Fuck oh my god—_ ” Ravi keened like it was a single word. The rest of what came out of his mouth was an amalgam of nonsense as he jerked under Taekwoon’s ministrations, coming hard over his own stomach and chest.

Taekwoon watched him hungrily, drinking in every shiver, every sigh, every stretch of sinew and soft flesh. He committed every curve, every line, every drop of sweat to memory. Ravi was heaving under him for several seconds, eyes darting around as if he were seeing spots. Eventually, his gaze settled on the older man’s face and he brought his hand up to brush his thumb softly over his jaw.

Ravi let out a long, shaky whine, looking at Taekwoon with glassy eyes. “Want you… to come too…”

“I will, _aein_.” Taekwoon said like a promise, kissing his forehead. “But I want to see you come one more time, first.”

Ravi let out another wrecked noise. Taekwoon had complete and utter control over his body. He could hold his breath for nearly five minutes, he could fake out a polygraph, even dislocate several of his own joints… so surely, he could hold off his own orgasm until he’d coaxed another from his lover.

Of course, if Ravi kept making sounds like that, he wasn’t so sure.

Taekwoon waited just long enough to let the hypersensitivity fade, starting to gently rock his hips once more as soon as Ravi’s breathing had evened out.

“G-god, how are you even real?” Ravi asked breathlessly, carding his hands into Taekwoon’s dark hair.

“Mm, you stole those words right off the tip of my tongue.” Taekwoon murmured. He nibbled little marks into his neck, then kissed him open-mouthed and languid, sucking on the other man’s tongue as he ran his own across it. When he pulled back again so they could breathe, he grinned at the completely blissful, fucked-out expression the younger man was giving him.

Taekwoon wrapped his long fingers around Ravi’s cock, which lurched in his grip, hard and red and sticky. The younger man jolted at the contact, letting out a soft whine. His hands fell from Taekwoon’s hair to scrabble at his shoulders.

“Will you come one more time for me, beautiful Ravi?”

He couldn't deny him if he tried.

Ravi let out a wrecked sob of a moan, back arching as he came again, adding to the mess already painted across his abdomen. He was shivering and shaking, tightening deliciously around Taekwoon’s cock. The older man actually let out a long, low groan, his hand returning to Ravi’s hip with a white-knuckle grip. It was the first time his calm demeanor had faltered.

Ravi was still delirious from his orgasm but the only thing on his mind in that moment was that he wanted to wreck Taekwoon just as badly as Taekwoon had wrecked him. 

For now, all he could manage to do was chant a litany of his lover’s name, begging for him to come too. He wanted to see Taekwoon undone, he wanted to see him lose that perfect composure for once in his life, and he wanted to be the cause of it.

“Ravi…” Taekwoon breathed, letting his control slip and allowing the feeling to consume him. That raging fire in his blood that he'd used every ounce of his self-control to keep tame was now alight from the base of his spine to the tips of his fingers. He let out another groan, visceral and wanton. “F-fuck… _Ravi_...”

He became aware in that moment he had never before heard the other man curse.

It brought him a thrill like no other to know that he had done this to him. He wanted nothing more than to ruin him.

Taekwoon hissed through his teeth, hair falling in front of his face as his head bowed, eyes closing for the first time since they started. He hadn't wanted to look away from Ravi for a single second. Now, it was overwhelming. The younger man bit his lip.

“God, Taek, come on, give me everything.”

Taekwoon honest to god _choked_ , the hand he had on Ravi’s hip moving up into that silver-white hair. His grip locked onto the strands a little too hard, then quickly released him when he realized it was likely just this side of painful for him. His trembling fingers slid down to his neck instead, cradling the space where it met his jaw, his thumb rubbing against his adam’s apple in time with his stuttering thrusts.

He opened his eyes again, meeting Ravi’s gaze with a smoldering intensity that could very well have burned him alive. Seconds later he came around a shout of his lover’s name, thready and desperate. The rocking of his hips slowed and eventually stopped before Taekwoon let out a ragged sigh, letting himself collapse a little, though he was careful not to crush the other man, planting soft kisses over his jawline and temple.

Ravi didn’t really care if they even moved to the bed. He could have stayed there forever and died content, wrapped up in Taekwoon’s embrace, entirely surrounded and encompassed by him in all ways.

***

Their night had been so amazing that it had shoved everything else out of Taekwoon’s mind. The next day, it occurred to him that he hadn’t ever told Ravi that he was having someone come to improve the security in the house. He felt foolish, because he usually never forgot important things like that. He glanced at the clock, noticing it was quite near to when Hongbin would be arriving. He cursed under his breath and went to find the other man in the living room.

“Ravi… could I ask you a favor?” Taekwoon said, actually wringing his hands. That gave Ravi pause.

“What is it?”

“I have a… colleague coming over soon to improve security in the house. I was wondering if you would please remain in the guest bedroom, and not to come out until he leaves.” To his credit, he seemed to understand how terrible it sounded, based on how uncomfortable he looked saying it.

“O...okay. I’ll just… take my laptop in there. He won’t even know I’m here.” Ravi agreed, gathering up his things and making sure to grab his headphones.

Taekwoon let out a small sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

While he was moving his things into the guest room, Taekwoon went to the kitchen and grabbed him a few things… a few pouch drinks that wouldn’t open noisily, plus some gummy snacks which he poured in a bowl first. He brought them to the guest room and set them on the nightstand before turning to Ravi, whose expression was somewhat guarded.

“Ooh, I get snacks. Lucky me.” He teased, though there was a bit of a sarcastic curl in his tone.

Taekwoon took the younger man’s hand before he could sit on the bed, halting him. “I… hope you understand, Ravi. I can’t have… anyone knowing about you. Even people who work for the organization. If that information ever made it to the wrong people-”

“I could be used against you, yeah, I figured.” Ravi murmured, gaze upon the floor.

Taekwoon’s free hand went to the other man’s chin, tilting his head up so their eyes could meet. “Please don’t believe for a single moment that I am embarrassed or ashamed by you. I would never hide you away if it were not for your safety.”

He leaned in and kissed Ravi softly, as if to reinforce the statement. Ravi kissed him back eagerly, for which he was grateful. It felt like understanding, or at least acquiescence. When he pulled back after a long and languid kiss, the younger man was looking at him somewhat dazedly.

Taekwoon grinned at him, pressing another soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I’ll come get you when he leaves.”

“Mm.” Ravi nodded, finally breaking out of his stupor long enough to speak. “Okay. See you later.”

Taekwoon nodded before heading out of the room, locking and closing the door behind him, in case Hongbin tried the handle for any reason.

It wasn’t long after that he arrived, goggles on his head, hair mussed, pen in his mouth and a bag full of tech goodies. He grinned when Taekwoon opened the door. “Leo! Let’s get to work!”

Hongbin had installed the original modifications to the house, and was therefore one of the few people living who knew of its location. It still took them hours, but working together, they got the cameras installed onto a brand new triple-secured network with monitors in Taekwoon’s base of operations, plus the option to have them broadcast to the TVs in the living room and bedrooms. He also fitted the front and garage doors with a lock that delivered a horrendous shock of one-thousand volts if opened with anything other than a specific key with a special chip installed. Hongbin only gave him two, one for himself and a spare, because any more would statistically compromise the safety of the mechanism, or so he claimed. He wasn’t wrong. Taekwoon would just have to ensure that Ravi had the other.

By the time Hongbin left, Taekwoon was weary of his company. He talked a lot, but mostly about things Taekwoon didn’t really have interest in. He was fairly tech-savvy, but Hongbin was what one might call a tech wizard. He could perform literal magic with technology, so it seemed, so a lot of what he said sounded a bit like Greek to him. Or, rather, a language he didn’t actually understand, like Icelandic. The guy was obviously a genius, but he seemed to forget that others, for the most part, largely had no idea what he was talking about. It was for that reason that he let out a sigh of relief after closing the front door behind him before heading to the guest bedroom.

He didn’t bother knocking, figuring Ravi was listening to music and wouldn’t hear him anyway. He grabbed one of his spare lockpicks and simply jimmied it open. When the door swung open, Ravi looked up, somewhat startled, pulling his headphones down around his neck.

“My colleague is gone.” Taekwoon told him, adjusting one of the sleeves of his black satin shirt where it was rolled up to his elbow before running a hand through his hair to get it out of his face. 

“Ooh, I’m free.” Ravi teased in a light tone, grinning as he stood up off the bed and pulled the headphones off completely, sliding his computer off his lap to rest it on the duvet. “So, are we living in a fortress now?”

“May as well be.” Taekwoon replied with a smile. “Come on, I’ll show you around. I actually wanted to show you some things today anyway.”

Ravi raised an eyebrow, making an interested face. “Oh yeah? Sounds exciting.”

Taekwoon’s smile fell. “I wouldn’t say that. Follow me.”

That had Ravi worrying, but he followed obediently regardless. Taekwoon led them to his bedroom, opening the closet door. It was almost as big as his bathroom, with suits and dress shirts lining the space in an obscenely organized manner. The colors actually made a gradient from black to gray for the suits and went through a spectrum of black, blue, purple and red for the shirts. It was honestly a little ridiculous.

Taekwoon sighed as he stopped in front of the back wall of the closet, by his tie rack. “You know that I want more than anything for you to remain far from this life of mine.”

Ravi watched him, concerned. “I know.”

“But there are things that are beyond my control. Going after the people who attacked us would only encourage further retaliation and I can’t risk that. I’ve increased security as much as I reasonably can, but… I want to prepare you as much as possible, in case something like that ever happens again.”

“Prepare me, like… train me?” Ravi asked, the fear now leaving his tone and expression as he began to understand.

“Just a few things. Only for your survival. I don’t...” Taekwoon gritted his jaw.

“You don’t want to ruin me.” Ravi finished, letting out a huff of a laugh. “I promise, you won’t. And… I know you think the job’s already ruined you, but… I don’t believe that. Not at all.”

Taekwoon gave the faintest of smiles, clearly forced, and nodded. There was a row of knobs upon the back wall next to the tie rack with belts hanging from them. He pointed to one. “Second from the center, pull down hard.”

He demonstrated, and the back wall of the closet slid open, revealing a hidden room. There were guns of all calibers on the walls, as well as knives and protective gear.

“This is the smaller armory. If you find yourself near the bedroom in the event of an attack, you can lock yourself in here. It’s hard to find, undetectable from the outside, and the walls could withstand the entire building coming down around it, so it’s one of the safest places in the house.”

Ravi was a little dumbstruck, his mouth hanging open slightly as he looked around, blinking owlishly. “Uh… okay. That's normal.”

Taekwoon huffed a laugh. “Too much like a bad spy movie for you?”

Ravi took a long breath, shaking his head. “No… yes. I mean. Were you planning on holding off North Korea yourself if they invade?”

Taekwoon snorted. “I probably could.”

Ravi looked at him for a moment before bursting out laughing. “I don’t doubt it.” After a moment, he paused, squinting at the other man. “Wait. You said this was the _smaller_ armory.”

Taekwoon gave a guilty smile before leading him down the hall again, closing the secret door behind them. He took him to the cellar door, and Ravi realized it was one of the few places in the house he hadn’t seen… save hidden rooms, apparently.

Taekwoon opened the door, revealing a basement that looked… fairly normal. There were standard tools, some scrap wood and the like, as well as a selection of wines on a rather large row of racks. The thing that was so unusual about it was just how clean it was for an unfinished basement. Across the room, there was another door. Taekwoon pointed to it, then led Ravi over to it. There was a keypad on the handle.

“The code is 1-2-5-2-4.” The older man said as he typed it in. “Please commit it to memory.”

“Yah.” Ravi replied, muttering the numbers over and over under his breath as the other man pushed the door open. He fell silent, unable to do much more than gape. The entire back wall was lined with even more weapons than had been in the hidden closet room, and the other section of the room was set up as a shooting range with three lanes. Beyond that, there was a large portion of the room set up with foam flooring and a collection of workout equipment. He had most of the usual machines and weights, but he also had rather traditional pieces such as a salmon ladder and a few old wooden martial arts dummies that Ravi swore people only used in movies. There was another door beyond the gym area where he’d set up a security room with all the monitors for his home network, plus a secured computer for any time he needed to receive sensitive information from the organization.

“You look a little overwhelmed.” Taekwoon gave the younger man a sympathetic smile, laughing. “Don’t worry. I’m not here to make you my protege. You won’t be using most of this. But I’d like to teach you a few defensive techniques, and also how to fire a gun.”

Ravi had to blink a few times before he could formulate a response. “No, it’s-well. It’s a little overwhelming, but, actually, I was wanting to ask… would it be all right if I just worked out down here sometimes? I’ve pretty much just been doing push ups and sit ups to keep fit and that only goes so far.”

Taekwoon grinned indulgently. “Of course, Ravi. My home is your home. What’s the code?”

“Uh… 1-2-5-2-4.” Ravi answered.

Taekwoon nodded, satisfied for now that the number had stuck. “Good. Since we’re on the subject of questions we meant to ask each other… I noticed that when those men attacked us, you instinctively picked up the gun. Have you ever fired one before?”

Ravi frowned, running a hand through his hair nervously. “No, I just… I guess I was acting on instinct.”

Taekwoon shook his head, dismissing his embarrassment. “That’s fine. They didn’t know you couldn’t shoot. It could have bought us time had I not been able to get to you as quickly as I did.” He took down a few pistols and a light submachine gun off the wall, setting them both in one of the cubbies of the range. He set up a paper target as well before grabbing some ear protection. “I’ll give my instructions before you put these on. Just have them ready for now.”

Ravi nodded and put the muffs around his neck. He was a little nervous, but thrumming with excitement as well. He didn’t relish the danger that Taekwoon’s life had brought upon their doorstep, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t happy to be welcomed into seeing this side of him.

Taekwoon moved Ravi into position, starting him in a Weaver stance with the pistol. He stood behind him, his chest flush with his back, moving his arms into position once his legs were where they needed to be. “Good, hold that.”

While he stood there, he grabbed another pistol, standing next to him so he could easily watch what he was doing. He released the magazine, moving his thumb away to show the button which had done just that. “Mag release, bullets go in here. This one holds twelve. Push back in until it clicks. Pull back the slide to load a round into the chamber.” He cocked the gun, then turned it a bit in his hands. “Safety near your thumb. Red means ready. Never put your finger inside the trigger guard until you’re ready to shoot. And never point it at anything or anyone you don’t want dead.”

Ravi nodded, not letting his stance waver. He was sure that was the point… for him to get comfortable in it. He made sure his finger was outside the trigger guard on the pistol he was holding. “I understand.”

“Show me.” Taekwoon told him, tossing his chin at him.

Ravi, to his credit, only looked mildly panicked for a half a second before releasing the magazine, sliding it back in, cocking the gun and flicking the safety, reciting, “Magazine, slide, safety, red for ready.”

“Good.” Taekwoon nodded, sliding in behind him again. He put his own ear protection on, but left Ravi’s off for now, speaking close to his ear. “Most firearms have some form of recoil, or a ‘kick’, when you fire them. The recoil on this model isn’t terribly strong, but it is not the weakest in my collection, either. There is a trend among first-time shooters which can develop into a terrible habit, and that is over-anticipating the recoil. Lock your elbows, lock your wrists… let the recoil travel back to your shoulders where it will be offset by your strong stance rooting you to the ground. Most importantly, never pull the trigger. Squeeze. Don’t anticipate the shot, merely take it.”

Ravi nodded, shivering at just how close the other man was.

“My last lessons before you move on to the shooting… never close an eye to aim. That’s best when using a scope. Both eyes open, down the sights. Trust your eyes, and don’t anticipate. Finally, deep breath in before you fire, and squeeze the trigger while you exhale slowly. When I tap your shoulder, you can fire.” Taekwoon said before sliding Ravi’s ear muffs up from around his neck, securing them over his ears. He reached up to flick the switch that activated the target pulley, moving it to a medium range. Once it stilled, he tapped Ravi’s shoulder.

The shot rang out, muffled by their ear protection. The paper fluttered. Taekwoon tapped him again. Another shot. Ravi didn’t jolt against him either time and he was doing a good job of keeping the gun level as well. He tapped him several more times, in quicker succession. Finally, he put his hands on the earmuffs, squeezing a little in warning before taking them off. He removed his own as well.

“Safety on.” Taekwoon told him as he flipped the switch next to them so the paper target moved closer on the pulley.

“Ah, right.” Ravi said quickly, flicking on the safety and setting the gun down.

Taekwoon looked over the target. The shots were all within the chest area of the humanoid shape, even if they weren’t all individually lethal (although several were). “You did very well for a first time. I’m impressed.”

Ravi scoffed bashfully, though he was grinning, his cheeks pink. “Well, I had a good teacher.”

Taekwoon gave him a fond look. “You’re a natural.” 

Ravi cleared his throat, scratching the back of his neck. “Could I, uh... see you shoot?”

Taekwoon shrugged, putting on his muffs and picking up the other pistol. He flicked the switch so the target moved back, then waited until Ravi had put his muffs back on before moving into stance and firing his entire 8-round clip into the target. Every single one left a hole in the head portion of the humanoid figure. He set the gun down before taking off his ear protection, Ravi doing the same.

“The way you hold your gun...” Ravi motioned with his own hands, close to his chest. “It’s… sideways, almost.”

“The stance I taught you is called ‘Weaver’, it’s very common and standard for most applications.” Taekwoon explained. “The stance I use is called Center Axis Relock. Better for my line of work. More practical for tight spaces, close-quarters, even hand-to-hand.”

“I see...” Ravi murmured in understanding. “You just… you shoot so efficiently.”

“Now that’s all thanks to practice.” Taekwoon assured, smirking. “You will get better, too. In time.”

“Okay… and what about that one?” Ravi asked, sounding a little excited as he pointed to the submachine gun.

Taekwoon rolled his eyes and chuckled at him before running him through the basics, showing him the difference between the magazines and how to use the bolt instead of a slide, as well as how to anchor the gun on his shoulder and aim through the scope (this particular one was equipped with a rather nice ACOG). Ravi quite enjoyed shooting that one, claiming it made him feel powerful. The hitman just shrugged. He didn’t get a power trip from holding firearms anymore. They sort of lost their appeal when you knew you were capable of killing a grown man with a pencil.

After they were finished with the firearms lesson, they moved onto the gym area where Taekwoon taught Ravi some basic defensive moves, including how to escape from most holds and how to damage an attacker even if he didn’t have a weapon handy to help. Ravi was panting and sweating by the end of it, and although Taekwoon didn’t seem winded, he was marginally fatigued.

Ravi was sitting on the mat, stretching his neck after one aikido technique too many, and motioned to the wooden dummy. “So you actually use that thing?”

Taekwoon huffed a laugh. “It’s only for Wing Chun, one of many styles I’ve studied. To be honest, I don’t use it much in the field at all, but the speed training on that thing certainly gives an edge. No one expects muay thai power moves to be followed up with the quick style made famous by Bruce Lee and the Ip Man, and it’s what gave me an edge early in my career.”

“You fight a lot of people hand-to-hand?” Ravi asked, curious.

Taekwoon hummed, taking a seat next to him. “Occupational hazard. More than I’d care to admit. Does that surprise you?”

“Yeah. I guess I just… pictured you… I don’t know, perched up in a bell tower taking sniper shots, then disappearing into the night. Something like that.” Ravi told him honestly.

“If only it were that easy. Sniping targets takes either a well-prepared team or an incredible amount of planning. So many things can go wrong, your shot could be blocked, the weather could interfere… so many factors. And escape after the chaos that erupts, depending on the target… can be nearly impossible. I do use sniper rifles, yes, but rarely.” Taekwoon explained.

Ravi regarded him, though there was no particular emotion on his face. “So it’s usually… up close and personal, then? Doesn’t it… ever bother you?”

Taekwoon let out a long breath. “I wish I could say that it does. If only because… I would hate for you to see me as a heartless monster, even though I know that’s what I am. But… I don’t feel for my targets, no. That’s what makes me so good at my job.”

“You’re not a monster.” Ravi murmured, crawling over to him on the mat and caging the older man’s hips with his legs, wrapping his arms around him as he did. “And you’re certainly not heartless. There is a certain… coldness to you, yes, but… also a fiery, skillful passion. You defy all logic, but… you aren’t a monster.”

Taekwoon’s lip quirked up, but only just. “Who’s to say? Your judgement is a little clouded.”

Ravi huffed. “That may be, but… well. They called you Leo, right? Lions are predators. But no one calls a lion a monster for stalking its prey, and doing what it must to survive. Even with its claws sharp and maw bloody, they only say, ‘that is in its nature’. You are only doing what is in your nature, and I don’t believe that makes you incapable of caring for others or experiencing love. It’s only that, no one wants to believe that humans can be predators, too, because then the weak feel like prey. But I… I’m not afraid.”

Taekwoon’s eyes never left Ravi’s, smoldering in that earnest gaze. He wrapped his arm around the younger man’s waist and rolled them so that he was beneath him on the mat, the hitman looming over him like the very animal he’d likened him to, his long sinewy limbs thrumming, as if ready to pounce. “You shouldn’t be. You are not my prey.”

“Then what am I?” Ravi asked, expression still earnest, yearning.

Taekwoon’s gaze raked over him, utterly at a loss. There were no words to describe what Ravi meant to him… how could he possibly explain it? But… the other man was fond of metaphors, wasn’t he? He smiled, genuine and true. “Even the fiercest predators in nature have mates… one to call their equal.”

“I’m not your equal.” Ravi retorted with a bitter snort.

Taekwoon frowned. “There are so many ways in which you are my _superior_ , Ravi. My ability to kill another human being with impressive efficiency does not increase my worth. If I am a destroyer, Ravi, you… you are a creator. You create art, and light wherever you go. And you are a lover… you love with such devotion and passion; you care so deeply even about those who have no bearing upon you, those you’ve only just met. If you are not my equal, it is only because you rise above me in far more ways than I could possibly count.”

Ravi let out a choked little sound, his voice raw when he managed to rasp out the only thing he could in that moment, a broken, “ _Taekwoon_...”

The older man cupped Ravi’s jaw with both his hands, dragging him closer. His thumbs swept across his cheeks, willing away the tears slipping from his eyes. “I hate it when you cry.” He murmured, kissing the corner of his mouth and tasting the salt-tang from his tears.

“I-I’m sorry...” Ravi sniffled, feeling a little pathetic.

“No...” Taekwoon continued, kissing him again. “I hate it because you never cry over something I can fix. It’s not an enemy I can face. I can’t put a bullet through the eyes of your past. I can’t destroy your insecurities. But… I am privileged to have your trust, that you would let me see you when you are so vulnerable. I can’t demolish those problems… but I will always be your safety and shelter when you need me.”

The younger man let out a wrecked sob, fingers tangling in Taekwoon’s shirt, in his hair… he just craved that closeness. Taekwoon was right… he felt he could be vulnerable around him, but that he would never use it against him. He felt protected. He had never felt so comfortable expressing himself around anyone before. Taekwoon made him feel like he didn’t need to pretend to be a street-hardened thug. He could take the time to feel, and unpack, manage his emotions, learn to cope with things he’d long since shoved to the back of his mind.

“Thank you, Taekwoon.” Ravi murmured. “I’m sorry, I just. I guess I’d feel a little better about it if I didn’t feel so useless around here. I wish I could at least run errands for you or something when you’re gone. It’s just, we’re so far from the city.”

“I suppose I wasn’t entirely clear, but when I say you have free reign of the house, that includes the cars. This isn’t a prison, Ravi. If you want to go out without me, of course I’d caution you to be careful, but you’re welcome to.” Taekwoon told him.

Ravi turned beet-red, looking down and stammering. “Oh, well, it’s just that… I, uh-”

A light came to the hitman’s eyes. “You never learned to drive.”

The younger man just blushed brighter. “Yeah, I just… I was always in the city, and I lived on the streets, it’s not like I could afford a car...”

“I’ll teach you.” Taekwoon said, tone resolved. “And we can get you your license.”

Ravi delighted in the idea that maybe he could do something more than just exist in Taekwoon’s life… but of course, it came with the other man holding his hand and doing even more for him. It was a trade-off he'd have to accept.

***

In the following weeks, Taekwoon taught him how to drive, as promised. He even took Ravi out in his pleasure car, which the younger man had spied covered in the garage several times. Turned out to be a brand new Aston Martin DB9 GT, manual transmission, because _of course_ he would have a goddamn Bond car. Ravi made the mistake of teasing the other man about probably being able to drive ‘Tokyo Drift’ style in the case of a wild car chase and Taekwoon just _had_ to prove him right, executing hairpin turns effortlessly and drifting like an expert. When Ravi asked when Taekwoon was going to teach _him_ how to do all that, the older man just laughed. Still, it was exhilarating just being in the passenger’s seat. He drove like he played the piano; it was artistry. His hand flying over the clutch, pulling the e-brake so fast Ravi barely saw him before he was cutting the wheel and gunning it around the curve of the road in a perfect arc. It was nothing short of art. Ravi was happy to stick to the basics himself for now.

In addition to being his tech-guy, Hongbin also handled any documents he needed, including procuring passports and licenses of a valid nature or not. It took a little extra work, but Taekwoon sent him several different requests for documents and name changes, all with different pictures for the licenses, including some for himself with varying aliases. Hongbin seemed annoyed at the flood of work, but changed his tune when Taekwoon sent him a considerable amount of money to expedite everything, and he didn't ask any questions.

Days later, a nondescript, large yellow envelope arrived by courier. Taekwoon signed for it and sent the delivery boy on his way. When he came back inside, Ravi peeked his head around the corner he’d just ducked behind.

“Oh, not an unexpected guest?” He asked.

“No, just a delivery.” Taekwoon told him, ripping open the envelope and rifling through it. All the documents had been organized by the name they were under, so he pulled out just the one containing Ravi’s. He’d be able to make use of the ones with his own photos, but the others had been useless decoys, so he’d probably end up pitching them.

“Ooh, anything fun?” Ravi perked up, padding over to him.

“Just your documents.” Taekwoon replied with a grin, handing him the plastic package.

Ravi opened it, pulling out the license first. It was a decent picture of him… a selca he’d taken, but it had been angled to look like a straight-on shot from a camera. What struck him the most was the name: Jung Ravi.

“Perhaps a little presumptuous of me, but I gave you my last name.” Taekwoon told him. “In a worst-case scenario, we could always say we are related. Brothers or something. I thought it might be easier this way, but of course you're welcome to change it again.”

“No…” Ravi rasped, his voice cracking and fingers trembling around the reflective plastic. “No, it's… it’s perfect just like this. Thank you.”

“In any case, they're legal documents so it's all legitimate.” Taekwoon explained. “You're officially Ravi, in the eyes of the law.”

Ravi looked up from the I.D. suddenly, cocking his head. “You had to have seen my birth name, then… when you were doing all this.”

Taekwoon shrugged. “Unavoidable, yes. But I've told you before… you're Ravi to me.”

The younger man smiled, only a trace of melancholy in his eyes. “Kim Wonsik has been dead to my parents for years. Now he's dead to me, too.”

“Just don't forget when signing your name.” Taekwoon teased, tossing something else to him before setting down the large envelope on an end table. “I also got you added to my insurance and credit cards, you'll find copies in there.”

Ravi looked down at what he'd just caught: a simple black wallet. He slid the I.D. into its designated slot. “Oh good, I can finally go pick up that yacht I've been eyeing.”

“If you want.” Taekwoon replied with a grin, only half teasing.

Ravi rolled his eyes, then smirked. “So, does this mean I can drive the Aston Martin?”

“Seeing as it's a manual and I haven't taught you to drive stick, no.” Taekwoon replied. When the younger man pouted, he added, “I could just buy you an automatic version.”

Ravi blinked at him at least seven times. “Taek, that car’s worth about two-hundred _million_ won.”

The hitman just stared at him for a long moment, expectantly. Finally, he spoke. “Oh. Sorry, too much? Is that sugar daddy territory again?”

Ravi burst out laughing, shaking his head. “I mean, a little, yeah. That's not chump change.”

“I don't think in terms of won when it comes to your happiness.” Taekwoon told him flatly, as though it were not a profoundly romantic statement (Ravi’s heart lurched in his chest because that just made it all the more endearing). “Besides, if you knew how much people paid me to kill other people, you wouldn't even flinch at that amount.”

“Good to know the price on a human life is at least decently high, then.” Ravi muttered sardonically. “And anyway, I was kidding, I'll drive the Porsche gladly.”

(The next day, an automatic version of the next year’s model was sitting in the empty lane in the garage anyway, and Ravi shoved him in disbelief and something like annoyance… but he was clearly thrilled, and let Taekwoon fuck him on the hood of the car, because what better way to break it in?)

Ravi didn't waste any time in going out by himself, taking the car out for a spin the very next day. It was a bit surreal driving down the streets he once called home in a car that was worth more than the collective wealth of everyone he passed there. It made him want to do something more… but he knew it wasn't his money, and he felt strange when he thought about asking Taekwoon for something of the magnitude he was considering.

It was Taekwoon’s turn to welcome Ravi excitedly when he returned home, though his greeting was little more than a delighted smile and fond comment, since he was currently preoccupied at the seldom-used dining table, several firearms spread across the surface and gun oil coating his hands.

“Here.” Ravi spoke up, throwing a small stack of papers onto table, avoiding the guns.

Taekwoon wiped his hands on a rag, then looked over them curiously as he picked them up. “What is this?”

Ravi scratched the back of his neck. “I went to the clinic and got tested, so um… you know, if you wanted to… without…”

Taekwoon eyed him over the papers. “Well… I'll have to go too, first.”

Ravi frowned. “Come on. We know that if the two of us, it's me who needed to-”

“Do we?” Taekwoon cut him off, perhaps a little sharply.

Ravi sighed. “Look I'm not… offended. I don't need to see your test results. I think we both know which one of us really needed it. You don't have to go.”

“I'm going.” Taekwoon huffed. “Because not only is it necessary, but I refuse to buy into this delusion of yours that it was all about you. I won't entertain it for a moment.”

Ravi rolled his eyes. “I told you, I'm not offended. You know what I used to do.”

“And you know what I do now.” Taekwoon bit back. “Ravi, I have been stabbed, shot, nearly drowned in water browner than dirt. I've been beaten bloody by people on every continent save Antarctica. I’ve been injected with unknown concoctions by captors with syringes I can't account for the sterility of. I've been covered in the blood of so many strangers I've lost count. I've traveled to places where healthcare is a pipe dream, and had to be treated there for life-threatening wounds. I promise you that this is absolutely, unequivocally a two-way street, and I would never simply assume I was ‘clean’ just because I've never been paid to perform sexual favors. I use my body to make money just as much as you used yours… it doesn't matter if the circumstances are different. Now I won't be hearing any further arguments on this.”

Ravi was momentarily stunned. Taekwoon had never been so final with him. He was irritated at just how attractive he found it, especially since he wanted to be annoyed at the other man for once again proving he was far from judgemental. Finally, he managed to let out a sigh before finding his voice.

“Fine, but. I still trust that you are. Clinic or not.”

“Well I don't. So clinic it is.” Taekwoon responded in a somewhat terse tone, though it was clear he was trying to be patient. He picked up the pistol he'd been polishing once more, and it may have been an intimidating scene if Ravi didn't know for absolute certain that Taekwoon would never lay so much as a finger on him, let alone threaten him with a gun.

Taekwoon did keep good on his word, and went to the clinic the next day. Late in the afternoon, he shuffled in with several bags of groceries and tossed the paperwork on the kitchen counter where Ravi was snacking on some shrimp something or other that he enjoyed.

“So the consensus is I'm _not_ a walking infection.” Taekwoon said as he began unpacking the bags. “They did see my white blood cell count was up, likely from that cold I just got over trying to make a comeback... so they gave me a shot of antibiotics to be safe.”

“Good to know you’re not secretly harboring ebola or something.” Ravi replied in a too-serious tone. 

Taekwoon laughed, throwing a snack bag at him. “Here, these were on sale so you should try them.”

“The bag doesn't say ‘spicy’ on it so you're instantly my favorite person.” Ravi replied as he looked it over.

“Oh, I wasn't already? Obviously I'm slacking, just like my shitty immune system.” Taekwoon teased.

“And _unlike_ your wit. You really know how to make a man swoon.” Ravi retorted, deadpan. “What's for dinner?”

“I picked up some pork, and beef, and this massive seafood medley bag, so pick one for tonight and I'll freeze the rest.” Taekwoon told him. 

“Seafood medley… that sounds fantastic. I can do something with that I'm sure.” Ravi actually seemed a little excited at the prospect. Then he spotted the massive tub-like container Taekwoon hefted up onto the counter and his eyes lit up. “Oh my god, you replenished our kimchi supply. Hell yes.”

Taekwoon grinned fondly as he put everything else away, making sure the frozen bag of seafood was left in the fridge so it could thaw a little from its icy state. “Well you use it in practically everything.”

“As any true Korean does.” Ravi quipped back in a proud tone. “Though I hope you don't have any actual plans for lunch… I probably spoiled my appetite.”

He shook his empty snack bag guiltily before throwing it out.

“It's fine, I grabbed something while I was out so I wouldn't be shopping hungry. That always leads to bad decisions.” Taekwoon told him. “So… would you like to work on some of your music today?”

Ravi beamed. “Yeah, that'd be great. I had another idea or… four. We can just work on one or two for now though. I have this melody kind of making its rounds in my head that I was hoping you could do something with.”

Taekwoon smiled. “Let's find out.”

They spent the rest of the afternoon well into the evening working on a new song Ravi had come up with. This one had lyrics that were much less sad than the first song they'd worked on together, which secretly relieved Taekwoon. He told himself he shouldn't read too much into it, but he couldn't help but hope it meant Ravi was happier.

They didn't realize how late it had gotten, since the curtains were drawn, until Taekwoon happened to check his phone after getting a notification and he glimpsed the time on the screen. Once he saw just how late it was, he said they should call it for the night and start on dinner. They changed into comfortable sleep clothes first, just because padding around the kitchen in slacks or jeans seemed pointless.

They cooked together for efficiency, Ravi stir-frying the seafood in the sauce he'd concocted while Taekwoon chopped the vegetables. He was as skilled with a knife as one would expect, cutting the squash, onions and peppers with ease. He scooped them into Ravi’s mix before putting some water on to boil for the noodles. He dipped a finger onto the stirring spoon and tasted it, making a face. When he passed by the spice cabinet, he pulled down a few things and nudged them toward the stove.

“It's fine, Taek. It doesn't need to taste like molten death.” Ravi admonished.

Taekwoon huffed. “It needs some kick. Just add a little.”

“You can just add it to your own bowl after! That way I don't have to die and you can have your spicy volcanic meal of doom.” Ravi reasoned.

“It doesn't taste the same.” Taekwoon whined. “It doesn't soak into the vegetables for that rich, simmering burn. It just covers up the taste of what you made. I like your food, I just like it hotter.”

“Yeah but when I make it to your liking I can't feel my tongue after.” Ravi complained. “My throat burns for an hour. I don't even know how you can stand it.”

Taekwoon sighed. “Fine, just… a couple drops? For a little kick? And then I'll add more to my own?”

Ravi stared at him for a moment before throwing his hands up. “Fine, whatever, it's not like I'm gonna say no to you anyway, even if it has me breathing fire later.”

“Thanks.” Taekwoon said in a cheeky tone, kissing Ravi’s cheek as he added the spicy sauce to the mix. “I suppose I could find some way to make it up to you later.”

“Oh you'd better.” Ravi quipped, sampling some of the sauce off the spoon once he'd stirred it enough. He grimaced. “I already regret my decisions.”

“Oh you'll be fine.” Taekwoon cooed, sucking the rest of the sauce off the spoon still in Ravi’s hand. He pouted. “Pretty weak still, but an improvement at least.”

Ravi swatted him with the now-clean spoon, gently on the cheek. “You're terrible. Not all of us were fire-breathing dragons in our former lives.”

Taekwoon let out a ridiculous little growling noise, pinning Ravi to the counter a safe distance from the stove, each of his arms to either side of the man, caging him against the marble countertop. He made a biting motion with a snap of his teeth, then leaned in and stole a kiss. After a moment, they both devolved into laughter.

Ravi’s lips were burning a little, but Taekwoon was gorgeous when he laughed, his eyes becoming crescents, his hair sweeping in front of them as he bowed his head so they could just barely be seen, shoulders shaking. He wanted to give him a reason to laugh every day until forever. His lips, tingling, moved unbidden. He just blurted it out.

“I love you.”

Ravi wasn't sure why he felt like it should have been more profound… and maybe he could have stood to wait for a more romantic moment, but this, this was the moment when he realized that despite all the shit life seemed to put him through, he'd finally found something wonderful, _someone_ wonderful, and he didn't need a sunset or a fancy dinner or even an amazing night of passion to see it. It was here, in their pajamas, making jokes and laughing and smiling together… this was what love was.

And even Taekwoon felt it.

A man who earned his keep by murdering strangers, a man who was utterly convinced that there was not a loving bone left in his body… he felt it.

“Ravi, I-”

“You don't need to…” Ravi held up a hand, his lips curled up into a melancholy smile. “I remember what you said. I don't expect that you'll just magically be able to feel the same way for me. Honestly, it doesn't matter. Because what you _do_ give me… you… you make me so happy, that it doesn't matter if you don't-”

“Shut up and let me talk, you pabo. I love you, too.” Taekwoon interrupted, pressing their foreheads together. “I know what I said. It's what I believed. But you proved me wrong. I love you, Ravi.”

Ravi had resolved himself to accept that he would never hear those words or have the sentiment returned. So to hear it right then, so plainly, without even the slightest hesitation… it took his breath away. 

“Are you going to cry?” Taekwoon whispered, watching him seriously before a laugh slipped past his lips.

Ravi swatted at him, but yes, his eyes were glimmering. “Shut up you asshole.”

“It's fine, Ravi. I'm just lightening the mood because I really do hate seeing you cry.” Taekwoon told him, running a hand through the other man’s hair and kissing his forehead softly. “But you know it's always okay.”

“Yeah, I know.” Ravi murmured, and the few tears that did fall were gathered up by Taekwoon’s shirt as he shoved his face into the other man’s shoulder. 

“Don't burn the sauce.” Taekwoon reminded him after a long moment, but he stayed near enough to keep an arm around him even as he moved to tend to the food.


	5. Chapter 5

The two of them slipped into a routine that almost felt… normal. Taekwoon took a small break from taking work, since he was concerned that the moment he did, the Italians may try their luck again, and he couldn’t risk Ravi’s safety. But weeks went by with no sign of any trouble. They spent their days working on their music, with Taekwoon training Ravi on some more self defense techniques.

Ravi threw himself into his lyrics and composing. Taekwoon logged onto his laptop one evening and bought him a few sound mixing programs, since he knew the other man wasn’t going to do it himself. He was pouted at, and slightly admonished for it, but otherwise Ravi was clearly thrilled. They also went out a lot more… to dinner, sometimes, or even shopping downtown when the weather wasn’t too bitterly cold. Taekwoon took Ravi to a music shop one day and let him loose (which was honestly such a fulfilling experience; seeing his joy and excitement was truly therapeutic). He tried out all sorts of things, the hitman taking mental notes the whole time.

Taekwoon knew Ravi wouldn’t ask, so he took the initiative and converted the guest bedroom into a recording studio for him. Ravi didn’t use the room anymore except for the closet, so Taekwoon just rearranged things in his own closet to fit Ravi’s things, then knocked out the reconstruction in a few days. He sent Ravi on an errand to the market and used that time to disassemble the bed and move it down to the basement, then used the time Ravi was working out, music blaring as he made a habit of doing, to install the acoustic panels along the walls. 

Ravi’s face when Taekwoon led him to the room and opened the door was absolutely worth the sneaking around. He was, blessedly, too excited to cry, darting from one corner of the room to the next looking at everything that the other man had set up for him.

“I know you don’t expect some record deal to fall from the sky, but I think if you continue to work hard and share your music with the world, you can have a good following.” Taekwoon told him with an earnest smile.

Ravi pulled him into an embrace, kissing him with fervor. When he pulled back, he looked at the other man heatedly. “So, I know you have a thing against me thanking you on my knees, but...”

Taekwoon snorted, shaking his head and pulling him into another hug. “Thank me with a song instead. We can record something today to test it out.”

Ravi huffed. “Fine.”

And they did just that. Ravi just credited Taekwoon as “L”, listing the artist as “LR”, which he figured was the safest way to keep his real name off the web and also not have his hitman nomenclature tied in any way to Ravi. He already had the music arranged for the track, so they spent the whole day perfecting the vocals before he posted it.

The next day, he had several thousand new followers and a ton of comments about the mysterious “L”. Many people were asking who he was, if they would be doing more collaborations, if they would do vlogs together, et cetera.

“I’ll do as many songs with you as you’d like, but no vlogs.” Taekwoon told him after Ravi spent a good twenty minutes reading him some of the comments. “I can’t risk anyone seeing me, knowing what I do, and linking me to you through the videos. But you should do some on your own.”

“And what about… us? Should I tell them you’re my boyfriend?” Ravi asked. It was the first time he’d ever used the word to describe their situation, but he liked the sound of it.

Taekwoon smiled indulgently, kissing the other man’s forehead. “Tell them whatever you’d like. Being forthcoming about it could lower your chances of being signed onto a big record deal, though, so you may want to consider that. But you shouldn’t feel forced to hide who you are, either. It’s your decision to make.”

That afternoon, Ravi recorded a vlog welcoming his new followers, thanking them for their support, and explaining that “L” was his boyfriend, who was simply a very shy and private person. He even went on to divulge about how his parents had disowned him for his sexuality and that “L” had been the first person who accepted him and cared for him in a long while. He got a little emotional talking about it, but his message was simple: don’t let anyone tell you that what you are is wrong, and not to be afraid to be one’s self. The comments were largely positive, and anyone who posted any negativity was quickly rallied against by his supporters. He thought he might lose some followers but ended up gaining a couple thousand. He was certain he had made the right choice.

***

It had been a long while since the raid and Taekwoon was starting to wonder if the Italians had either given up, or perhaps that the higher-ups had not been privy to his location themselves. If it was just a stray pack, as he’d initially hoped, it seemed that the danger was over, for now. He received a notification for a job in Japan and accepted it, figuring it was good to start taking work closer to home when possible.

He told Ravi that night after dinner, and he was less than thrilled. They were cuddled up on the couch together, as they usually were, the TV droning on softly in the background.

“I don't want you to leave.” Ravi murmured, pouting.

“I don't want to go.” Taekwoon admitted, kissing the younger man’s forehead. “But that's the job.”

“You don't have to keep doing it, though.” Ravi intoned. “You could just… retire. We could make music together. I know it sounds like an impossible dream but… you have the means, and the talent…”

Taekwoon huffed a laugh. “Even if that were true… someone like me can't just retire without consequence. I know too many secrets. The Geondal, Yakuza, the Italian Mafia, the Chinese Triads… I know too much. They could come looking to silence me. They'd find my vulnerabilities.”

“We could face it. Together.” Ravi tried.

“I'd never put you at risk.” Taekwoon told him, pressing a soft kiss to his temple this time. “Please trust that I will always come home to you.”

Ravi nodded, but his heart was heavy. He couldn't shake the fear that each time he said goodbye to Taekwoon that it would be the last. He couldn't bear the thought of never seeing him again. He couldn't help but imagining having to call that second number in his cell phone and explain to a stranger that the man he loved was dead. He didn't know who would be at the other end of the line, but he knew they didn't know anything about him. Not like Taekwoon.

The next morning’s farewell was harder than the others had been. They had something now… something real, something Ravi could define, even if words didn't seem like enough. He had safety, comfort, love… and he was watching it walk out the door with a briefcase full of guns into unknown danger, uncertain whether it would even return.

But Taekwoon left him with a promise he would be back before he knew it, vouchsafing the statement with a chaste kiss. It didn't make watching him drive away any easier.

***

The job had been standard, much to Taekwoon’s relief. He’d taken it for precisely that reason. It was strange to have something to come home to. He found himself taking less risks, being more careful… he’d never been particularly reckless before, as recklessness was a surefire way to die early in his profession, but carefulness had never been his strong suit. Now, he found himself assessing situations far more delicately.

Which was why it surprised him when a man he did not know managed to get so close to him without him noticing.

He looked up at the stranger, standing there next to him on the near-abandoned street in Busan, gun in hand. He was an older gentleman, likely early fifties, bulky and tall. Clearly muscular, and European, with dark hair, thick eyebrows and olive skin.

Taekwoon had just flown into Busan from Osaka, and was heading to the train station to get back to Seoul. It seemed that would have to wait.

“Buongiorno, Signor Leo.” Said the stranger, giving him a slow smile that didn't meet his eyes. He continued in his own native tongue, “You are a hard man to find.”

Italian, of course… it was only a matter of time. Taekwoon didn't respond. The man’s grin fell.

The Italian motioned with his gun to a black limo as it pulled up on the street next to them. “Get in. We can discuss.”

Taekwoon knew that this man had no intention of speaking to him and sending him on his way. But he was not there to kill him, either; he could have done it already. Which meant… this man was a delivery boy.

Convenient, since he had a message to send.

He got into the car, his face still entirely impassive. Once the door was closed, the vehicle started down the road. The divider was up, two-way glass, so he couldn’t see the driver.

The man next to him cleared his throat. “You see, Signor Leo… we had a team who was tracking your movements, but they suddenly disappeared without checking in, some months ago. You haven't… happened to see them, hm?”

Taekwoon raised an eyebrow. “Your death squad? They met a swift and bitter end. Sorry if you were expecting another outcome.”

The man sighed. “The bratva did warn us you were the best. But of course, the bratva are why we're are here in the first place.”

“The bratva hired me for a job, just as your boss has hired me for a job, in the past. It’s the business.” Taekwoon explained flatly. His eyes tracked over the darkly-tinted windows. He surmised they were heading out of the city, toward the water.

“That job cost the family a great deal.” The Italian bit back. “My boss is… eager to get his hands on you.”

“Mm, I assumed as much. He’s not satisfied with simply having me killed, now, is he? Wants to do it himself?” Taekwoon gave a wry smirk.

The man grinned. “Precisamente.”

Taekwoon pressed his lips together, nodding. “Unsurprising, if not a little unprofessional.”

“You killed his uncle, and only months after his father’s death!” The man snapped angrily, spittle flying past his lips.

“It’s a job.” Taekwoon said slowly, with no inflection in his soft, low voice. He almost sounded penitential.

“Well, _this_ is my job. And what my boss does with you after… well. That’s his business.” The Italian replied, smiling smugly.

The Busan docks came into view through the windows. Taekwoon sighed. “Signore, we both know I am not going to be handed over quietly.”

The man huffed, shoving the gun closer. “I am to deliver you alive, but not uninjured. I will shoot you if I must.”

“With what?” Taekwoon asked gently. The man furrowed his brow in confusion, but before he could react, the hitman’s hand darted out quickly, knocking the gun from his grip. It clattered to the carpeted floor of the limo, sliding to the other side of the cabin.

The Italian’s eyes widened, and he moved to clock the hitman square across the jaw, probably looking to knock him out… but Taekwoon was quicker, blocking the strike with his forearm. He got two solid hits in on the guy’s chest before the Italian grabbed him by his lapels. Taekwoon brought his leg up and shoved his foot against the man’s neck, forcing him back against the door with a grunt and causing him to let go. His hand dipped into his jacket and he pulled out a pocketknife, flicking out the blade with practiced celerity. The Italian managed to block the first few stabs, but that seemed to be Taekwoon’s plan all along, as he suddenly knocked both his arms away, rolled to straddle the man and shoved his forearm hard against the man’s neck to pin him against the leather seat. He dropped the knife from the hand he had against the man’s throat to his free one before plunging the blade into his chest.

“The blade is in your aorta.” Taekwoon hissed, staring the man directly in the eyes. “If you pull it out, you will die. If you struggle, you will die. Now listen very carefully. This is _not_ a professional courtesy. This is a final chance… a chance to perform your penance.”

He let go of the knife and pulled away, staring down at the man with a sneer. “Go and tell your Don… if he sends more men, I will kill them. If he comes for me, I will kill him. If he so much as breathes in my direction, _I will kill him_ , and I will take down his entire empire and every member of it. His name and his family legacy will be wiped from existence.”

The man wheezed, glancing down at the knife. His fingers twitched toward it out of instinct, but he knew better than to remove it.

“Have I made myself perfectly clear?” The hitman asked, looking at the Italian expectantly.

The man just nodded slowly, letting out a small, bloody cough.

“Good.” Taekwoon sat back in his seat, pushing his hair out of his face like nothing had happened. He knew precisely where they were, and exactly where they were going.

Sure enough, the driver pulled up to a remote area of the docks where a massive yacht sat in the calm waters. The driver got out, apparently assuming everything was fine. When he opened the door, Taekwoon shot him once, fatally, then stepped out of the car. He noted the helicopter pad on the yacht was empty, and he could hear the steady chop of its blades closing in from across the bay. When he squinted, he could see the lights blinking in the distance. He turned back to the man in the limo.

“Your boss is almost here. Don't forget to deliver my message.”

And then, he was gone, and he could only pray that the Italians had more sense than they had shown so far.

***

Taekwoon was infinitely more careful when returning home, ensuring that he wasn't followed. He was relieved to learn that the team who had originally attacked him had apparently not made contact with their boss and passed along his location, which meant that his home was not compromised as long as he ensured no one else managed to follow him. He texted Ravi when he was climbing into his car at the train station in Seoul, letting him know he’d be home soon.

When he returned home, Ravi greeted him with the same fervor as always, as well as a hot meal. 

“You're the best thing to ever happen to me.” Taekwoon told him that night while they were tangled together on the couch, bellies full but nursing hot tea as they often did on colder evenings.

Ravi’s cheeks turned a little pink and he ducked his head shyly. “I could… say the same about you. Not much competition, though.”

“For me either.” Taekwoon replied with a huff of a laugh, pressing a kiss against the younger man’s hair. “We’re quite the pair, hm?”

“Yeah.” Ravi chuckled, leaning against his shoulder. 

They decided to turn in early, mostly because Taekwoon was usually beat after a job. Ravi’s usual enthusiasm was no less, however, and they hadn’t been settled in bed for more than two minutes before they were kissing passionately, the idea of sleep all but forgotten.

Taekwoon wrapped his arms around Ravi and made to roll them over with every intention of taking care of him as he loved to do. But his lover held fast, not letting him budge them.

“Mm, no. You stay right there.” Ravi cooed, pressing his palm against the other man’s chest. “You just got home, and you’re always tired after traveling. You relax. Let me take care of you for once.”

Taekwoon may have argued if Ravi wasn’t entirely correct. He, of course, hadn’t told him about his little tussle with the Italians either… he was lucky that had been on the tail end of a rather easy job and not one he’d been entirely worn out or injured from. So, he just nodded his acceptance, staying where he was.

Ravi grinned, eyes alight. He was clearly pleased. He quickly got to work ridding them both of their clothes, tossing them haphazardly about the room, which Taekwoon gave him an admonishing look for. The younger man just bit his lip and tried to give an innocent look, but it had completely the opposite effect. 

Ravi retrieved the lube, then straddled Taekwoon, knees on either side of his waist. The man below him grabbed the small bottle and drizzled some along his first two fingers.

“I can do that.” Ravi murmured, but Taekwoon gave him a look.

“This is not a chore. And I’m not _that_ worn out.” He admonished, setting the lube aside. He brought his hand between the other man’s legs and ran his fingers over his rim before pressing against him. It slid in easily… too easily. Taekwoon raised an eyebrow at him. “Ravi… did you already prep yourself?”

The younger man blushed, biting his lip. “Maybe… okay, yes. When I got your text from the train station. I just… wanted to be ready.”

Taekwoon huffed a laugh, crooking his finger in a way that made Ravi stiffen, arch his back and shudder with a low groan. “Nothing wrong with eagerness. As I’ve said, if you ever want something, you need only ask.”

“Mmh-! I want… I want you… god, I just… I only ever want you.” Ravi husked, gasping when Taekwoon slid a second finger inside him next to the first.

“I’m yours, always.” The hitman purred in a low voice like a promise. He reached his hand up to card his hand into Ravi’s hair and pull him down for a long kiss, continuing to work his fingers inside him. The man on top of him was making delicious noises right into his mouth, and he swallowed them eagerly.

It wasn’t much longer before Ravi was pulling back, gulping for air as Taekwoon scissored his fingers, knowing he could take it because he was never as rough with Ravi as Ravi was with himself. He didn’t sit there idly for much longer, pushing his hips down against Taekwoon’s hand needily at first, but eventually begging him to fuck him.

Taekwoon obliged, pulling his fingers away and grabbing the lube again the slick up his cock. He kept his eyes on Ravi the whole time, who was watching him hungrily. 

Ravi braced his hands on the other man’s chest and slowly sank down onto him, letting out a little satisfied groan once he was fully seated. Taekwoon’s hands slid over his thighs before settling on his hips, though he made no motion to take control of his movements, letting his lover guide their pace.

“God, I missed you...” Ravi breathed, holding Taekwoon’s gaze as he lifted up on his knees, then gently rolled back down. “A few days without you feels like a lifetime.”

The hitman smiled fondly up at him, rubbing his thumb over the jut of his hipbone. “I miss you every moment we aren’t together.”

Ravi’s heart swelled in his chest. He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve him, to deserve this, but he was no less grateful for it. He started them at a fairly slow cadence, lifting his hips before rolling them back down hard. Eventually, he picked up his pace, leaning forward a bit over Taekwoon for leverage. When he hit just the right angle, he let out a little keening noise, and the older man knew he was hitting just the right places inside him.

When Ravi’s movements became slow and stuttered, Taekwoon braced his feet on the bed, held fast to his hips and bucked up to meet him, earning him a soft wail in response. Ravi toppled, leaning down over him entirely now with his hands braced on either side of Taekwoon’s head as he let the other man keep their pace.

“Fuck… Taek...” Ravi rasped, letting his forearms take his weight to either side of his lover as he dipped his head lower and kissed him desperately.

One of Taekwoon’s hands left Ravi’s hip to card into his hair, though he was still able to keep their rhythm without faltering by wrapping the other arm around his waist. The small shift in angle had the younger man crying out again, pulling away from the kiss to catch his breath. He loved to watch Ravi like this, falling apart above or beneath him… he didn’t care. Even though he knew Ravi was doing this to help him relax after his job, he couldn’t help but take his lover’s pleasure into his own hands, focusing solely on that. He found he seldom cared about his own… he only wanted to ensure Ravi was taken care of.

“Taek...” Ravi admonished, so close that their noses were touching. “You’re doing that thing you do. Just… feel with me, baby. Don’t close yourself off.”

Taekwoon smiled, the hand that was in his hair moving to cup the other man’s cheek as he kissed him softly. “I can’t help but want to ensure you are taken care of, love. If you come for me, I promise I’ll let go.”

“Sh-shit-!” Ravi whined, shivering when Taekwoon punctuated the statement with a hard buck of his hips. Maybe one day Taekwoon would be satisfied getting just the one orgasm out of him, but that day wasn’t today.

Not long after, Ravi came across Taekwoon’s abdomen with a harsh cry, his spine going taut before he unspooled completely, collapsing against his lover and panting, trying to catch his breath. Taekwoon kissed him languidly, his tongue exploring that eager mouth in ways that made the other shiver.

Still limp and utterly pliant above him, Ravi was incredibly easy to move. Taekwoon gently rolled them over, pulling out slowly. Ravi whined in protest, rolling over onto his stomach and melting into the sheets, exhausted.

“You didn’t come.” Ravi whined, pouting over his shoulder at the man behind him.

Taekwoon chuckled. “I’m not done with you yet.”

He let his hands explore the planes of Ravi’s back, kneading into the muscles until they eased under him and all the tension left the other man’s spine. When he had caught his breath, Taekwoon grabbed for the lube again and slicked up his cock once more before pressing back inside of him. Ravi lifted up onto his hands and knees and pushed back against him, eager to comply.

“So many times you’ve wanted me to do this.” Taekwoon murmured against the shell of Ravi’s ear. “Admittedly, I love to watch your face, so it isn’t my preference. But I’m happy to show you there is more to this position than selfishly taking.”

“H-holy fuck...” Ravi hissed, letting himself be pulled up until his shoulders were flush against Taekwoon’s chest as he leaned back. The older man’s hands were around his neck and waist, the former with only enough pressure to run the pad of his thumb over his jugular, not in any way cutting off his air or the blood-flow. The one around his waist was helping him keep their pace, pulling him back against his thrusts.

“You’re glorious, Ravi.” Taekwoon husked, mouthing at the other man’s shoulder. The hand he had around his waist moved slowly downward, causing the other man’s skin to jump under his touch. He splayed his palm across his pubic bone, right under his navel, applying just a little pressure to push him back in time with the movements of his hips. The tips of his long fingers brushed teasingly over the base of him. “I can’t see you as well, so let me hear you, _aein_.”

Ravi let out a delicious keening noise, his head dropping back against Taekwoon’s shoulder as he arched into him. One hand flew up to grip hard at Taekwoon’s hair while the other reached back and grasped desperately at his hip. The older man honest-to-god _growled_ , raking his teeth over the juncture where his neck met his shoulder. He wrapped his hand around Ravi’s cock, stroking him in time with his thrusts. Ravi lurched in his grip, a stuttering groan getting tangled up in his throat.

“What’s the point of having a house in the middle of nowhere if you don’t scream for me?” Taekwoon teased, moving to gently nibble at the younger man’s earlobe.

“Oh my fucking _god_ -!” Ravi yelped, not restraining his volume this time.

“That’s it.” Taekwoon purred. The praise set Ravi’s blood alight, his cock twitching in the other’s grasp. He picked up his pace, knowing his lover was close. The grip he had on the younger man’s neck tightened ever so slightly, not enough to cause discomfort but just enough to keep him in place. “Come for me, love, and let me hear it.”

“Fuck, Taekwoon!” Ravi shouted, unable to do anything save obey. He came all over his lover’s hand and his own chest, shaking uncontrollably in his hold.

Taekwoon shuddered, feeling every electric pulse of pleasure through Ravi’s body quaking around him. The hand he had around Ravi’s cock released him to wrap around his waist in an iron grip, holding him in place as he fucked him hard and fast, letting out a ragged grunt or groan with every thrust. His lover murmured nonsensical pleas and encouragements, begging him to come, too. It wasn’t long before he obliged, coming hard with a loud moan, fingers trembling when he finally loosened his grip and eased Ravi down onto the mattress.

He leaned over him, soothing his hands down the other man’s sides as they both panted breathlessly. After what felt like a small eternity, Taekwoon gently pulled out, then turned Ravi over and kissed him softly.

“Wait here.” He murmured before peeling himself away. He headed into the bathroom and cleaned up, then brought back a warm washcloth and did the same for Ravi. After they were mostly clean, Taekwoon laid back on the bed with a great, contented sigh. The other man quickly nuzzled up against his side, and he wrapped an arm around him.

“I was trying to take care of you, but you ended up taking care of me again anyway.” Ravi pouted.

“I enjoy taking care of you.” Taekwoon chuckled softly, grinning as he kissed his hair. “And I promise that you take care of me in more ways than you know.”

“I love you.” Ravi whispered, closing his eyes.

“And I love you.” Taekwoon replied, kissing his hair again.

Sleep came easily to him that night, but he was plagued with thoughts of jobs gone wrong and the utter horror Ravi would endure if that were to ever come to pass.

He found himself wondering if Ravi had the right idea after all, when he suggested he get out of the business. It felt like a pipe dream, but he couldn’t help but think about it.

***

They spent the majority of their time together, with Taekwoon taking a bit more time to train Ravi in some self defense techniques and even some fun driving skills in his new car. Ravi’s face, sheer euphoria, after drifting the first time was probably the highlight of the week. Ravi also began to go into town a lot more on his own, and mentioned possibly getting a job, since he had the ability to get places without the other man, but Taekwoon just told him not to bother.

“Focus on your music.” He’d said, his thumb skirting over his jaw where he was gently cupping his cheek. “You earning a retail salary isn’t going to stop me from taking work, and it would only keep you out of the house and likely cause you frustration.”

“Yeah, but-”

“You have done so much for others in your life, Ravi.” Taekwoon told him, pressing his thumb against the other’s bottom lip to silence him. “It’s okay to pursue something for yourself, for once.”

Ravi’s protests died in his throat. He’d never been told it was okay to be selfish sometimes. It was certainly anathema to how he’d lived his life on the street. Even now, he’d found himself returning to those streets he once called home, helping in small ways where he could. Volunteering. Taekwoon hadn’t asked him about it yet, but he assumed the man was just trying not to be overbearing.

“I can’t just… not help other people.” Ravi said finally. “I’ve… been going back to the neighborhood and… you know, I got lucky. I literally hit the karmic jackpot with you, I know that. Someone who loves and accepts me, and who takes care of me? I couldn’t have possibly ended up in a better place. But most of them? They’re exactly where they were. Maybe worse off.”

“You can't save everyone.” They were the same words Taekwoon had said when they'd first met, but the emotion was entirely different. It wasn't bitter or sardonic. It was… understanding. There was empathy in his eyes. “But I know you will do good in this world.”

“I want to do so much but I just… can't.” Ravi sighed, defeated.

“You know I would do anything for you, love.” Taekwoon told him, kissing his forehead. “You need only ask.”

“I don't know how.” Ravi admitted in a broken, raw tone. “I wouldn't… even know where to start.”

Taekwoon smiled patiently at him. “Then let's start at the beginning.”

Ravi didn't know what that meant, but the other man wouldn't tell him. Taekwoon’s idea of “the beginning” turned out to be the condemned building where they had met. It had indeed been bulldozed to make way for new apartments, the foundation laid and frame built, but the project had stalled when the real estate company ran out of money some weeks prior. They were happy to sell it to him at a loss just to have it out of their hands.

The next step was paperwork, a ton of it. He had Hongbin expedite the process by having him send it to his “friends in high places”, but kept the records sealed in order to prevent too many people from knowing what he was doing. Once the documents had been filed, Taekwoon hired several people to handle the rest. At that point, it was out of his hands.

Ravi had been hounding him about what he'd meant by “the beginning” for days. Finally, he had something to show for it.

“Take a drive with me.” He said, keys in hand, later that week when the two of them had just finished lunch.

Ravi just nodded, happy to comply. He enjoyed spending time with Taekwoon, no matter what that entailed. They drove into the city, past their favorite shops and restaurants and the little market they often shopped at. The area they were heading into was not unfamiliar to Ravi, however. In fact, it quite felt like home, in its own way.

“What are we doing here?” Ravi asked, but then, he paused. The building they had pulled up in front of was not familiar, but everything around it was. The gleaming metal skeleton of the structure before him was new, but the street was not. He knew where they were. Everything clicked. “The… beginning.”

Taekwoon smiled, climbing out of the car. Ravi followed.

Laborers were milling about, hard at work. The entire block was bustling with workers, machinery and the like. A woman in a smart skirt-suit and kitten heels with a leather bag approached, grinning.

“Mr. and Mr. Jung, it's lovely to see you stop by.” She shook both their hands before turning to Ravi. “I'm Lee Sejin, but please call me Lyn.”

“Nice to meet you,” Ravi said automatically, though his eyes began wandering. “What… is all this?”

“Well, construction is going great, and we anticipate the building will be ready soon. Unfortunately with the holiday coming up, there will be a bit of a delay, but we should be ready for the next phase come March.” The woman beamed. She seemed genuinely excited about it.

“I don't… understand?” Ravi admitted, looking between the both of them and back at the building.

Taekwoon smiling patiently, turning to the woman. “Sorry, Lyn. This whole thing is still a surprise to him.”

“Oh.” She nodded expectantly, still grinning. She handed him a manila folder from her bag, which he in turn handed to Ravi.

Taekwoon cleared his throat. “I filed a non-profit for you. Well. You can't own a non-profit, but you're the President of the foundation, technically. Lyn here is the Secretary, and she’ll be the public face, as well as project manager. The LR Foundation’s first official project is a community outreach center.” He motioned to the building in progress.

Ravi blinked. And blinked again. “You… bought the building? You started a company?”

“A charity, actually, and it's technically not in my name. I'll be on the Board. Behind the scenes.” Taekwoon grinned. “You'll be deciding what other things the foundation will focus on after this, but… I wanted to start here. It seemed important to you.”

Ravi, to his credit, only hyperventilated a little.

“Could you… give us a moment, Lyn?” Taekwoon asked, giving an apologetic look as he put an arm around his boyfriend to stabilize him.

“Of course.” She replied with a chipper smile, clicking off in her cute heels to go check on the construction.

Ravi’s composure fell. “Taek… you bought a building? You started an entire foundation?”

“You wanted to help people in the community. This is a way you can do that.” Taekwoon explained.

“I thought you were going to… I don't know, donate a couple hundred grand to a soup kitchen, or something. This is… this is so much.” Ravi raked a hand through his hair, working on getting his breathing under control. “You… I know you have money, but. If you keep spending like this, you're going to take more jobs, and then I won't see you as much, and you could end up getting hurt again or worse—”

“Oh. Was that your concern?” Taekwoon almost looked relieved. “Ravi, I've had my money invested since I started this work almost ten years ago. My money makes money. I've never really spent it on anything except the house and cars, plus… business expenses. This didn't even make a dent.”

Ravi stared at him. “So… when you acted like that Aston Martin wasn't really a big deal…?”

“It really wasn't a big deal.” Taekwoon confirmed. “Accounting for exchange rates between countries, a single hit is usually around 2 trillion won minimum, for the kinds of clients I work with. Factor a few dozen jobs a year, for ten years, plus interest.”

“Oh my god.” Ravi said breathlessly. “You're so much richer than I could have even… you could be living in a mansion. A castle. Your house is nice, but… not… U.S. Billionaire status.”

Taekwoon shrugged. “I like luxurious things, but I'm a fairly practical person at heart. Plus, it's not my only house. I have several safe houses, mostly apartments, in other major cities around the world. I just tend to use hotels to keep their locations secret unless I'm in a bind. Also… I don't think I'm quite a Billionaire in U.S. terms. Probably just below. Exchange rates are a little peculiar.”

“Oh my god.” Ravi said again, at a loss.

Taekwoon chuckled, pulling him into a hug. “Did I break you? I'm sorry, I thought I was being forthcoming but apparently I wasn't forthcoming enough.”

“It’s fine, I’m fine, I'm just… processing.” Ravi assured. He let out a long breath. “I still can't believe you bought this old place.”

“Mm, yes, I have such fond memories of nearly bleeding to death in those crumbling halls.” Taekwoon said teasingly. “But it _is_ where I met you. And even beyond that… it meant something to you. Now it can mean something to a lot of other people, too.”

“I've got a lot of ideas about that, actually.” Ravi replied, apparently finally getting a handle on his emotions.

Taekwoon motioned Lyn over with one arm, the other still around Ravi’s shoulder as they walked a little closer to the building. “Anything you want, love. Hit me.”

Lyn skittered over, pulling out a pad and pencil. She followed them as they walked the grounds, jotting down everything that Ravi said. All his thoughts, ideas, visions and hopes. Taekwoon wanted to make every one of them a reality.

It wasn't much yet, but it was already everything Ravi could have ever dreamed of.

***

There wasn't much they could do until construction was done, so they didn't spend much time visiting the site after that day. Ravi did work on some ideas from home, however, in between recording and songwriting. Somehow he'd gone from being someone with all the time in the world to someone who was constantly running out of hours in the day. It was a strange, but welcome change.

He was sitting in the living room checking his new video comments the week after they visited the construction site. When Taekwoon walked in, he knew instantly what he was going to say.

“Let me guess, you took a job?” Ravi said, not even looking up from his phone.

Taekwoon cocked his head. “Am I that predictable?”

Ravi finally glanced up, giving him a lopsided grin. “Your gait changes, like you’re holding more tension. And your face… you always look a little regretful.”

“I am.” Taekwoon admitted, a melancholy smile on his lips. “This one’s in Russia, so… a bit longer than the last. But I won’t be more than five days.”

Ravi sighed, pouting. “May as well be an eternity.”

“You’ll survive somehow, I’m sure.” The hitman quipped.

“Mm, I don’t know. Jury’s out.” Ravi drawled, glancing sidelong out the window like he'd just heard the most distressing news.

Taekwoon snorted. “Fine, can I make it up to you?”

Ravi gave him a look. “How? You've already built me my own studio, bought me a goddamn Bond car, started a charity for me, and you fuck me senseless whenever I ask, so.”

Taekwoon chuckled. “Well you did mention that yacht.”

“I was absolutely kidding.” Ravi said flatly.

“I know.” Taekwoon replied with a slow grin, kneeling on the floor in between Ravi’s legs and running his hands over his thighs before leaning up to kiss him. “What if I apologized on my knees? Begged for forgiveness?”

Ravi made a small noise, lurching back a little against the couch. He'd lost count of the number of times he'd dropped down onto his own knees or even suggested the notion only to have Taekwoon stop him. He couldn't even remember the last time someone had done that for _him_. (Yes he could; high school boyfriend. It felt like a lifetime ago.)

“Taek…” He tried to sound chiding, but it just came out needy. “You never let me…”

“Because I like pleasing you.” Taekwoon told him, working his mouth over Ravi’s neck. He knew the precise spot to nibble at under his jaw that made the younger man’s eyes flutter closed with a soft hum. “So let me.”

The list of things Ravi wouldn't let Taekwoon do was short, if not non-existent. He would honestly have let the man eat him alive, then probably thank him after. It was dangerous just how much of an effect this beautiful man had on him.

Ravi’s response was little more than a desperate whine. He fisted a hand into Taekwoon’s hair, angling his head until he could press their lips together. Taekwoon kissed him like he knew exactly how to make him fall apart, and fuck, he absolutely did.

“You know,” Taekwoon murmured against his lips when he pulled back, only enough to put a few millimeters between them. “I happen to find that French is the best language for apologies.”

“Oh yeah?” Ravi asked, his mouth going dry as the other man hiked down his sweats, freeing him from his boxers. He wrapped those long, slender fingers around his hardening cock and stroked him from root to tip.

“They say, _je suis désolé_.” Taekwoon explained, his pronunciation on the foreign words somehow impeccable. “From the Latin, ‘desolatus’, meaning ‘thoroughly abandoned’. It is as if you are saying, ‘I am a desolate wasteland of sorrow’. Such a poignant, dramatic apology, hm? But then, the French _are_ a little dramatic. After all, they're the language that refers to orgasm as a ‘small death’.”

Ravi groaned, his head falling back against the couch. He wasn't sure why an etymology lesson was so utterly attractive, but it was. “God, that's… so fucking hot, Taek. If you keep talking like that you'll make me come before you even get your mouth on me.”

Taekwoon clicked his tongue, shaking his head. He clutched at the base of Ravi’s cock for just a moment before resuming his slow, torturous strokes from before. “ _Oh, je ne voudrais pas que cela se produise. Vous aurez plaisir si je l'autorise._ ”

“Fuck-!” The word sounded like it was punched out of his chest, leaving at the same time as all the air in his lungs. He had no earthly idea what Taekwoon was saying, but he didn't care. He could listen to him talk like that all day; it didn't matter if he was reading a cookbook or talking dirty to him. He strongly suspected it was the latter, though, the way the other man’s lips curled up into a mischievous smirk around the words.

Taekwoon’s hand tightened around him, moving a little faster, now. “ _Mon dieu… vous êtes si magnifique, Ravi. Permettez-moi de vous faire plaisir comme vous ne l'avez jamais connu._ ” 

“Holy shit.” Ravi hissed. When Taekwoon dipped his head down and slid his tongue over the very tip of him, lapping up the precome there, he shuddered.

“ _Permettez-moi de goûter chaque morceau de vous. Permettez-moi d'entendre tous vos beaux sons, mon ange._ ” Taekwoon murmured before wrapping his lips around the other man’s cock and taking him down to the base.

“O-oh my god…” Ravi mumbled in a breathless whisper, the words blending together. His spine went rigid with the effort he was expending to not buck his hips into that perfect heat. The grip of his fingers in Taekwoon’s hair was probably more than painful at this point, but the other man didn't protest.

For a long moment, Taekwoon didn't actually move. He stilled with Ravi nestled in the back of his throat like it was no great feat. His tongue laved back and forth across the underside of him, twisting over the vein in ways Ravi couldn't even imagine were comfortable. When his cock twitched against his palate, Taekwoon swallowed around him, his throat tightening around the head.

“Sh—fuck-!” Ravi groaned, hips rocking forward of their own accord. Taekwoon just left his hands on the younger man’s thighs for balance, not trying to hold him still at all. He swallowed again, entirely unfazed. Ravi’s first instinct was to try to pull away and apologize, but Taekwoon just moved with him, eyes flicking up to meet his, saying one thing through his gaze; ‘Keep going.’

Ravi’s eyes rolled back, lashes fluttering as he took a moment to regain what infinitesimal amount of composure he had left. When he opened them again, Taekwoon was still looking at him expectantly. He let out a pathetic little sound and bit his lip before finally willing himself to roll his hips again. The older man gave a pleased hum, the vibrations running through Ravi’s cock and causing him to jolt.

Taekwoon didn't let him pull off more than an inch… just chased his every thrust, forcing him deeper with every snap of his hips, loosening his jaw and taking him so deep that his nose was pressed flush against Ravi’s pubic bone. Every time Taekwoon swallowed around him, he felt like he might jump out of his own skin. Every inch of him felt electrified. The hand in the hitman’s hair was holding him so hard he was certain he had to be hurting him.

It occurred to him, distantly, in a fleeting moment of clarity, that Taekwoon hadn't remotely pulled off for long enough to breathe in the last several minutes. He panicked a little, pulling back. Taekwoon chased him, as he had been, so Ravi tugged at his hair until finally eased up.

“Stop, stop.” Ravi stuttered through labored breaths. “Taek… shit, don't you need to-?”

The hitman pulled off of him with a slick pop, looking up at him with eager eyes. He wasn't even breathing hard, unlike his partner. “I can hold my breath for five minutes.”

Ravi’s brain stopped working for several seconds. Finally, he formulated a reply. “You could… still choke, if you're not careful.”

“I absolutely invite you to try. If you manage, I'll buy you that yacht.” Taekwoon said almost impatiently.

Ravi didn't want to take that as a challenge, but it sounded like exactly that. He let out a shaky breath and moved his hand out of Taekwoon’s hair. Several black strands were woven between his fingers. He brushed them away, turning red. “I'm sorry, I had to’ve been hurting you-”

“Ravi.” Taekwoon interrupted, tone as smoldering as his gaze. “I can take it. I want you to give me everything.”

Taekwoon leaned forward again, taking the younger man’s cock into his mouth again. Ravi let out a thready gasp, his hand tangled back into that midnight-black hair instantly, the other gripping the back of the couch. He couldn't imagine purposely treating with any manner of roughness this man who was always so careful with him, who gave him everything he ever asked for and more. But it was becoming clear that Taekwoon did not need to be coddled, and rather resented Ravi behaving as though he did.

“God…” Ravi groaned when Taekwoon rolled his tongue around his cock in delicious little patterns as he bobbed his head slowly, too fucking slowly. He knew exactly what the other man was doing. He hated that it was going to work.

Ravi’s grip tightened in Taekwoon’s hair and he snapped his hips forward. The man didn't even flinch when he hit the back of his throat, just swallowing around him and humming in encouragement once more. It would have taken a greater man than him to resist.

Leaning back into the couch for leverage and holding onto that jet-black hair for purchase, Ravi began rolling his hips. Slow, at first, but it wasn't long until he was caught up in the feeling of it, chasing that heat pooling behind his navel. Soon, Ravi was bucking against him with abandon, unrestrained. Taekwoon just watched him hungrily, reverently, relaxing his jaw and taking it like he was born to it.

“Shit… Taek… fuck, m’gonna come-!” Ravi’s warning was an unnecessary courtesy; Taekwoon didn't err, didn't pull back… just hummed in encouragement and pressed his fingers into those erratic hips.

Ravi’s rhythm stuttered and he let out a string of curses as he came hard, knuckles white where they were clutching the couch cushion. Taekwoon took him down all the way and swallowed, which dragged a strained little whine out of him, causing him to shudder violently.

When Taekwoon finally pulled off, Ravi was trembling and whimpering, tugging at the man’s hair to get him to back away because he was so sensitive. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, his hooded gaze never leaving Ravi’s. He bit his lip.

“I could do that every day forever and still never get enough of you.” Taekwoon husked, his usually soft voice carrying a slight rasp to it.

“I'm still not happy about you leaving.” Ravi murmured petulantly. “But that wasn't the worst apology I've ever received.”

Taekwoon just huffed a laugh and counted it as a half-victory. He'd count it as a full one after he came home alive.

***

Taekwoon did indeed come home alive, though a little worse for wear. A particularly bad bruise was forming on his shoulder where he'd had to muscle down a door to go after a rather fast-moving and cowardly target. It was nothing that would cause lasting damage, though, he was sure. At the moment, he was on the last leg of his journey home, standing in the shuttle at the airport waiting to be brought back to his car. It was late morning, so the place wasn't nearly as packed as he was used to.

Taekwoon watched the words on the little advertisement ticker above him whizz by, reminding passers-by that the Lunar New Year was right around the corner. That would mean little to no work from his Asian-country clients, and that travel would be hell. He usually flew over to Europe during the beginning of the week-long celebration and simply stayed there until it died down, as he had no family to celebrate with. But now… 

Now, he was considering certain logistics. The Geondal always held an end-of-year meeting right before the festivities, inviting all of the major mob bosses in an effort to seal deals, forge stronger partnerships and discuss the year’s successes and failures. It was the one time that nearly all the biggest players in the crime world were in one place. The security was absurd, of course… but he was no stranger to impossible situations.

It was now, or never. He wouldn’t have another opportunity like this again for another year. Setting his jaw, he resolved himself to do it. He emailed N, knowing the man wouldn't bother arguing. He then sent Ravi a text letting him know he had to take a detour and would be a bit later than expected getting home.

The reply he received expressing hope that he was all right and topped off with a heart emoji told him he was making the right choice.

***

The Chae Family Syndicate held the meeting in their own building, in the penthouse conference room. Security was indeed tight, but not as much as he would have expected… apparently some of the guards had already been relieved of their duties for the holiday. He knew he wouldn’t exactly make friends by murdering the remaining guards, so he took them all down with non-lethal force before making his way up to the conference room.

He had to take down one more guard and send the secretary on her way with a wave of his gun before he was able to enter the room. He took a breath and opened the door.

“Before you gentlemen begin, I’d like to take the floor.” Taekwoon said.

All heads whipped to his direction, several of the guards standing near the walls pulling out their guns. The Russians actually moved toward him.

“Stand your men down.” Taekwoon snarled in perfectly-enunciated Russian. Their boss raised his hand, but they kept coming. The hitman lifted his gun and fired two shots, downing each of them with non-lethal blows.

The rest of the bosses jolted in their seats. The two guards standing behind the Triad leader lurched forward.

“Leash your dogs or I will put them down.” Taekwoon hissed in Chinese. The order seemed to quell them, and they backed off.

“I'm not here to kill any of you. I'm here to make an announcement.” Taekwoon explained in Korean, looking directly at Boss Chae, head of the Geondal.

The elder man nodded, motioning for him to continue. He looked the least terrified of the bunch, but his brow was beaded with sweat. He was merely the best at hiding it. “Leo” had a reputation. He had earned that nomenclature for a reason. He was strong, efficient, deadly and proud. He was the king of his trade. He was not one to be trifled with.

And every person in that room knew it.

Every single boss there had handed him ludicrous amounts of money under the table to kill someone else, many of their targets being members of each other’s organizations. He had never broken faith on those agreements, never revealing just who was holding the contracts. It wasn't his place, nor was it good for business. But now, he wanted out. He had the leverage to hold over them, but they had to be told. They had to be warned.

“Gentlemen. I understand this is your last meeting before you break for holiday. I won't take up too much of your time.” Taekwoon spoke in English, knowing it was the only language every one of them spoke fluently. His own pronunciation was impeccable. “I have just completed a contract for one of you. For whom, I will not say. I am merely here to advise you that it will be my last.”

He began a long, slow trek around the table, meeting the eyes of every boss there. Each watched him carefully, many quivering in terror, but not wanting to look away for fear of what he might do once they were not paying him any mind. Irish, Russian, Korean, Japanese, Italian, Chinese… they were all gathered in one place. It would have been child’s play for him to topple their empires at the end of the barrel of his gun.

“I'm getting out.” Taekwoon said in a tone that brokered no argument. “You can rest assured that any information I have garnered from working in and around your institutions will be kept silent. Obviously, I understand that your organizations largely don't work on trust, but on fear, and the only kept secret to you are those held by the dead.”

He continued his arc around the room, finally ending with his back to the door. “You may be tempted to send your death squads after me. You may believe that is a lesser risk than allowing someone with information as valuable as I have to live beyond your watchful eye, if I am no longer of use to you as a hired gun… but let me make myself perfectly clear. The last hitmen to cross me in my own home left in body bags, and I swear to you that I can dismantle the entirety of your operations before you ever succeed in killing me.”

His eyes lingered on the Italians. Their Don looked flustered, but didn't say anything. None of the men spoke. None of them moved. Several just swallowed, eyes still tracking his every movement.

“This visit was a courtesy. It will be your one and only warning. If I step foot into this building again, it will be to raze it to the ground, and every one of your criminal empires will go with it.” With that he gave a deep bow, heading for the door. “Thank you for your time, gentlemen. Have a prosperous New Year.”

There was a collective sigh once he left the room, and every boss there agreed to never speak of the man they called “Leo” ever again.

***

Taekwoon was an audacious bastard if nothing else, and stopped at the market and another store on the way home. He barely got there before they closed, and the woman behind the counter looked twenty shades of done and ready to go home and begin her vacation. He apologized, making up some excuse about how his plane back from his business trip had been delayed and how he still wanted to make sure that his family’s new year was special. She seemed a little less acidic after that, and wished him good fortune and prosperity on his way out the door.

When he arrived home, he entered as quietly as possible, delighted when he didn’t immediately see Ravi. He crept around the house, listening for him. He peeked into the bedroom, not finding him in there, and the bathroom door was open with the light off, so he wasn’t showering. He walked by the guest room and heard muted music playing. After a moment, he heard Ravi rapping, sounding rather focused. He grinned and padded back to the kitchen.

It was almost an hour by the time Ravi emerged, the smell of the food Taekwoon had been cooking finally making its way to him.

“You’re home!” Ravi said in a tone that was a mix between joy and accusation.

“Have been for an hour. Sorry, I wanted to surprise you.” Taekwoon grinned. He had prepared tteokguk and buchimgae, which was laid out in a massive spread across the dining room table. It was far too much for two people, but he didn't seem to care.

He pulled Ravi into a hug, but the other man seemed preoccupied with all the food, staring at the dining table in awe.

“Wha… what is this?” He asked, breathless.

“Well, it’s tradition to have a large family feast for the new year. I can’t remember the last time I had one, and I assumed it had been a while for you as well, but… we are each other’s family now, aren’t we? I thought… this would be a good way to celebrate that.”

“I… I don’t know what to say.” Ravi whispered.

“Don’t say anything yet. We’re also celebrating the end of an era, as well as the beginning of a new one.” Taekwoon told him. “I’ve left the organization. I can’t promise that it comes with no risks, but… I made myself clear that incidents like that Italian death squad fiasco wouldn’t be taken lightly and that heads would roll and empires would crumble before they ever managed to put me in the ground, so… I have confidence that no one will bother us, if they know what’s good for them.”

Ravi blinked at him. “I don’t… understand. You left?”

“I left.” Taekwoon clarified. “I’m no longer a hitman. Formally.”

Ravi’s eyes welled up with tears. “You… you quit?”

“I did.” Taekwoon assured. “For you.”

The younger man was crying, now, unable to hold back. “You… for me?”

“Please don't cry, when I see you cry I want to destroy whoever is making you do so and since that's me I feel conflicted.” Taekwoon teased.

Ravi let out a sob of a laugh, wiping his face. “They're good tears, I promise. I'm sorry.”

“I have one more surprise for you, but you really need to stop crying.” Taekwoon told him, almost managing to keep a straight face. He couldn't help but grin, however, when his lover let out another laugh.

“No promises, since your surprises are amazing. I can't imagine what else you have up your sleeve.”

“I'll be right back.” Taekwoon said, kissing his forehead as he stood and padded out to the garage. When he returned, he was holding a large box with circular holes cut into the sides, a massive red bow atop it. Something was shuffling around inside.

Ravi looked at him in disbelief before his eyes locked on the box being set in front of him. He took off the lid only to have an adorable little furry head pop up to greet him. It was a whitish-cream French Bulldog.

“It's the Year of the Dog.” Taekwoon told him with a smile. “I thought he would make our house feel more like home.”

“You make it feel like home.” Ravi murmured, voice cracking as he lifted the puppy out of the box. He cradled it in his lap, pulling Taekwoon into a gentle hug. The former hitman wrapped his arms around them both, careful that the dog didn't get crushed between them. “What's his name?”

“Whatever you'd like it to be.” Taekwoon said, peppering kisses across his hairline. “I've turned the page, but I'd like it if you started writing our next chapter.”

And even if Ravi gave the dog a ridiculous name, wanted to stay up all hours of the night working on new music or even take a midnight stroll under the stars, Taekwoon would do it. He'd always be looking over their shoulders, yes… but he would keep them safe. This was still a far better life than he could have ever forged for them with a gun in his hand. Instead, he would stand with Ravi, their hands entwined, and they would face their future together.

_Fin_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never said I wouldn't include a dog, just that I wouldn't harm one. Loopholes! Cameo by Ravi’s precious lil dog, Butt AKA Bada$$. Who let him name the dog, anyway?? 
> 
> Also: I considered putting the translations of Taekwoon’s French dirty talk here but decided not to because Ravi didn't know what he was saying and he still found it hot. If you care enough you're welcome to Google translate it.

**Author's Note:**

> It occurred to me I haven't been putting ANY notes on any of the chapters since I have a little support group chatting with me about the fic so my contact with my readers hasn't been completely limited to notes and comments. But anyway I just want to say how grateful I am for the response to this fic. It's truly been lovely. Reading your comments honestly makes my day and I don't think I've ever had a fic that received so much positive reaction in such a short period. Thank you so much for your feedback, it really keeps me going.
> 
> I will go ahead and confirm that there is a sequel planned for this fic so don't be afraid to hit 'Subscribe'. I have a few more fics to work on in the meantime but I hope to have it posted decently soon.


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